


Rage Against the Dying of the Light

by angstydaydreams



Category: Hawaii Five-0 (2010)
Genre: Angst, Canon-Typical Violence, Gen, Hurt Danny "Danno" Williams, Hurt/Comfort, Mild Language
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-12-05
Updated: 2012-12-04
Packaged: 2017-11-20 08:26:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 10
Words: 26,290
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/583281
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/angstydaydreams/pseuds/angstydaydreams
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When an injured Danny and Lori are taken hostage by a troubled teenager, Steve and the team must work against the clock to meet the boy's demands before Danny's time runs out.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This fic has already been posted over at ff .net. I've been debating bringing all my hurt Danny stories over here just so they're all together on this site as well. Thought I'd start with this one.
> 
> The lovely JoaniexJony beta'd this whole work-as always she has my immense gratitude.
> 
> The story takes place some time between 2.09 and 2.13.
> 
> I tagged the story as Gen because even though Rachel and Danny still care for each other, they are not a couple at any point of the story. If anyone intensely disagrees with this and believes it should be labeled Het, let me know and I'll do so.

Bobby Linton slumped in his seat. The sandwich he'd ordered was still in its wrapping. He'd come into the deli because he didn't know what else to do and he'd ordered the sandwich so he would have an excuse to sit at the table, not because he was hungry.

He fingered the newspaper article. It was from last year. He'd copied it off of the internet. The pages were creased and worn from repeated folding. It had been languishing in his backpack since he'd first discovered it the week before.

The girl at the counter was watching him. She was pretty, and Bobby guessed she was about his age. He was the only customer and the place was quiet. He figured he was making her nervous.

He unwrapped the sandwich, forced himself to eat a bite. The food turned in his stomach, but the girl dropped her eyes and went back to whatever she was doing.

His eyes strayed to his backpack. His stomach twisted again. It had been so easy to get. Easier than he'd ever thought possible.

He jumped when the door to the deli flew open. The little bells on the handle jangled loudly on his nerves and the girl behind the counter looked up.

A short blonde man and a tall fair haired woman walked inside, arguing loudly. Bobby knew who they were. He'd seen them in the offices the other day. The blonde man had been arguing then too. That time it had been with a taller Asian man.

Bobby's stomach flipped and for a second he thought he might puke. His hands began to shake. Should he do it? It had worked for Graham Wilson. The Navy SEAL had been accused of murder and then took a boat full of tourists hostage, but Steve McGarrett had cleared his name. Bobby might never get another chance to make them listen. He might never have another chance to free his brother and save their mother's life.

He fingered the backpack. He didn't even realize he'd unzipped it until his fingers suddenly touched cold steel. He wrapped his fingers around the handle of the gun. The choice had been made.

The loud bang shocked him, he hadn't meant to fire the gun. He'd only wanted to make them listen.

He hadn't meant to kill anyone.

Least of all a cop named Danny Williams.

-H5-0-

"Are you insane?" Danny drew up short on the sidewalk outside of Wong's Deli, his hands slicing upwards. "Are you actually saying that the best meatball sandwich you've ever had was at a Port of Subs? A Port of Subs? Were you raised in a cave?"

"No, Danny," Lori glared in annoyance at her teammate, stiffly bracing her hands on her hips. "I was not raised in a cave. I was raised in the suburbs. In Indiana."

"Well that's obvious," Danny snorted in derision. "If you'd ever actually been to New York or Jersey, you would realize the blasphemy of what you just said. Next you're gonna tell me you like Nickelback."

"I've been to New York," Lori said lamely. She bit her lip, shoulders slumping, chin falling slightly forward. Turning her back on Danny, she resumed walking towards the deli, pushing the door open.

"Oh my God," Danny chortled, understanding dawning in his blue eyes. "You like Nickelback. How can you like Nickelback?" The blonde detective chased after the taller woman, ducking in front of her and bringing her to another halt with a raise of his hands. "They only know, like, three chords! And they're Canadian!"

"Shut up, Danny," Lori finally snapped. She raised her fist and punched him in the arm.

"Violence is the refuge of those who know their position is indefensible," Danny continued to tease her. "My sisters resorted to it all the time."

"So you're saying they beat you up a lot," Lori smirked.

"I suppose that's one way to look at it," Danny grinned.

The girl behind the counter looked up from the sandwich she was making and smiled.

"Hi Alana," Danny waved.

"Your order will be right up, Detective Williams," she called. "I'm sorry we couldn't deliver it today, but Dad had to run out to the bank and I'm here alone."

"No problem," Danny smiled. "Feels good to get out of the office for a few minutes."

They were between cases. Which meant they were getting caught up on paperwork. Which meant Danny was finding inventive ways to rationalize searches and seizures and interrogations. Which in turn meant that Steve was more grouchy and antsy than usual.

"In fact, take your time," Danny waved and smiled. "Take all afternoon."

Beside him Lori snorted. "You're not getting out of the paperwork that easy. I get the feeling Steve would hunt you down."

"Not if we thoroughly cover our tracks," Danny whispered conspiratorially.

At first Danny thought Lori had punched him again. Hard. He stumbled. He meant to ask her what the hell he'd done to deserve that one, but all that came out was a startled yelp.

And as he tumbled into his teammate, she looked as surprised as he was. Then the pain bloomed in his shoulder, hot and searing. It took his breath away.

He heard Alana scream, but it wasn't until Lori urgently hissed the word gun that Danny muzzily understood the sound he'd heard wasn't a car backfiring. It had been a gunshot and he'd been hit.

He blinked hard, tried to focus. Tried to figure out where the threat was. Other than Alana, the only person in the deli was a scrawny teenage boy. He was positive no one had followed him and Lori inside.

His body was tangled up in Lori's gangly arms. His limbs felt like lead, clumsy and slow to respond. The fire in his shoulder was spreading. His ears were buzzing. His vision tunneling.

Danny tried to clamp down on the pain and the shock. He had to help Lori. Had to get to his gun. He felt Lori's fingers slide down his side and instinctively he understood his gun was the only one within her reach. He was also aware Lori was the only thing keeping him vertical.

He caught her eye and nodded slightly, letting her know it was okay. Once she got her hands on the gun, she was going to have to drop him.

"No no no!" A high reedy voice full of panic screamed. "Put your guns down. Both of you! Now!"

Danny's knees buckled. He dropped like a dead weight, bringing Lori down to her knees along with him. His breath hitched in his chest. Sweat popped out on his forehead. And suddenly he was freezing. As he shivered and swayed he felt Lori's arms tighten around him.

Danny swung his head and looked with pain glazed eyes at the teenager who'd shot him. The kid was holding his weapon with both hands, his knuckles nearly white with the strain of holding the gun steady. The boy was nervous as hell. If the teen so much as startled, he could take them both out.

Unable to hold his head up, Danny let it collapse against Lori's shoulder.

"Okay," Lori said calmly. "Okay. I'm going to pull the guns out of our holsters and place them on the floor. Just stay calm, all right?"

"Don't try anything stupid," the teen blustered. "I'll shoot you. I swear I will. I don't have anything to lose."

"What's your name?" Lori asked, carefully un-holstering the guns and placing them gently on the floor. She shoved them towards the teenager.

"Bobby," the kid sniffled, snatching up both guns and shoving them into his backpack. Diving towards the windows he turned the blinds and then ran to the door and threw the lock.

"Hi Bobby," Lori said, sliding her hand around Danny's back and gently easing him to the floor. She cushioned his head against her thigh. "I'm Lori. My friend here is Danny. He's hurt pretty bad. Will you let me get him some help?"

"Uh," Bobby rubbed at his forehead with his hand. "No. He can't leave. No one can leave." He suddenly turned towards Alana, swinging his gun at her in the process. The girl stood frozen in shock behind the counter. "Is there another way in?"

A small sob was his only response.

" _Hey_ —are you listening to me?" the boy shouted, his voice tinged with desperation. "Is there another way in?" His fingers tightened on the gun.

"Easy, babe," Danny said weakly, catching the boy's eye. "You're scaring her. Give her a minute. Alana," he called softly, never taking his eye from the teenager with the gun. "It's okay sweetheart. No one else is going to get hurt today. Isn't that right, Bobby?"

The boy swallowed hard and nodded jerkily.

"Is there a back door Alana?" Danny asked, his brow pinching with pain.

Slowly the girl stood up. She nodded, pointing with one trembling finger towards the door that led to the back room. Hesitatingly she said, "It's locked. It doesn't open from the outside."

The boy backed up, crossed his arms over his chest and began nibbling on his thumbnail. He nodded.

A wave of pain crashed over Danny's shoulder. He groaned, gritting his teeth.

"Bobby," Lori said urgently. "I have to try and stop this bleeding. He's going to die if I don't. Is that what you want?"

Dumbly, Bobby shook his head.

"Do you have any towels?" Lori asked Alana.

"I have some in the back," Alana looked fearfully at the teenager.

"Will you let her go in the back room and get some towels?" Lori asked the boy.

He shrugged and nodded, never taking his thumb from his mouth. He backed up, taking a seat on top of a table. One leg began swinging convulsively.

"Go on," Lori urged the girl gently.

As Alana disappeared into the back room, Lori smiled softly down at Danny.

"How you doing, Danny?" she asked, slipping her fingers around his wrist and pressing on the pulse point.

"Been better," he gasped, wincing.

Alana ran out of the back room, her arms full of towels. She dropped them on the floor next to Danny. She swallowed hard, staring mesmerized at Danny's chest. His shirt was soaked with blood, spreading downwards from his upper left shoulder. It was dripping on the tile floor in a growing pool.

"Thank you Alana," Lori said, grabbing one of the towels and pressing it firmly against Danny's shoulder.

Danny's face paled and he moaned. His fingers twitched.

The air was tinged with the metallic smell of blood. Nauseated, the girl stumbled backwards, her slight figure collapsing into a chair several feet away.

"Easy," Lori soothed. As the towel became saturated, she grabbed another and pressed it on top of the existing towel.

"'M' cold," Danny whispered, shivering. "Man it hurts."

"I know," Lori pressed harder, eliciting another groan from her teammate. She snagged another towel, her mouth a thin line as she pressed it over the wound. She glanced up at Bobby. "Tell me what you want."

"I want Steve McGarrett to prove my brother Charlie didn't kill Kai Kamaka, just like he proved Graham Wilson didn't kill his wife," Bobby said.

"I proved that," Danny muttered, his blue eyes stormy. "The papers always get it wrong."

Maintaining the pressure on Danny's wound with the palm of one hand Lori briefly squeezed his good shoulder with the other before reaching into her back pocket.

"What are you doing?" Bobby leaned forward nervously.

Lori pulled out her cell phone and held it up. "I'm calling Steve McGarrett just like you want, Bobby. But it's not too late to stop this. Let me call an ambulance and get Danny the help he needs."

"No," Bobby shook his head. "Maybe this will make Commander McGarrett work faster."

"You better hope he works fast enough, Bobby," Lori warned, swiping the phone's touch screen with her thumb and pulling up her contacts list. "Because at the rate he's bleeding, Danny doesn't have a lot of time." She stared stonily at the boy as Steve's phone began to ring. "And if Danny dies, I can tell you right now…neither do you."

"McGarrett."

tbc…


	2. Chapter 2

"McGarrett," Steve snapped into the phone. He was hungry, tired and fed up with having to vindicate good solid decisions to a legal system that seemed more concerned with allowing criminals to hide behind loopholes than with what was right.

_"Steve. It's Lori."_

"What the hell is taking so long? Did you and Danny fall into a sinkhole on the way to the deli?" Steve threw his office door open and headed into the operations room.

_"Steve, I need you to listen to me."_

Something in Lori's voice slowed Steve's walk.

_"You need to pull up everything HPD has on the murder of a man named Kai Kamaka and the subsequent conviction of Charles Linton for that murder."_

"Lori, what the hell is going on?" Steve waved his arms, snapping his fingers towards the windows of Chin and Kono's offices, placing his phone on the center console as the bewildered cousins joined him at the table.

Lori's voice boomed through the console's speaker system.

_"Bobby Linton, Charlie's brother, has taken me, Danny and Alana Wong hostage. His sole demand is that 5-0 reopens his brother's case and clears his name."_

Kono's fingers flew over the commands on the console, tracking the GPS of Lori's phone. She looked up at Steve and said softly, mindful Steve's phone was on speaker, "They're inside the deli, Boss."

Chin grabbed his phone from his pocket and ran back into his office, out of earshot.

"Can I speak to Bobby, Lori?" Steve asked, his mind flooded by a thousand questions, first and foremost whether Danny and Lori were all right. At least Lori sounded okay, if tense.

_"You're on speaker, Steve."_

"My team's pulling up those files, Bobby," Steve said, keeping his voice light and conversational. "While they do that, why don't you tell me if anyone's hurt."

 _"Danny took one in the shoulder, Steve,"_ Lori's voice came over the phone after a short pause.

Steve closed his eyes, bit his lip and shook his head. Forcing his voice to remain steady, holding his fear at bay, he said as lightly as he could, "Danno, how you doing, buddy?"

 _"The phrase bleeding like a stuck pig comes to mind. Ruined my favorite shirt."_ Danny complained with an irritability Steve was all too familiar with, but his voice was also breathy and weak. It told Steve everything he needed to know—Danny was in trouble.

Kono's fingers flew over the console, but her eyes snapped to Steve's, full of worry. Steve shook his head. TV shows often treated shoulder wounds as nothing more than simple grazes, but shoulders contained major arteries, nerves and bones. Untreated, Danny could bleed out in a matter of hours. And even if he survived, he could lose the use of his arm, ending his career.

"I promise I'll take a look at your brother's case," Steve said. "Now I need you to show a little good faith and let us have Danny. He needs medical treatment."

 _"No,"_ Bobby's voice suddenly flared over the phone. _"I'm not stupid. I watch TV. I know you'll try to drag this out. You won't do nothin' for Charlie if you don't have an incentive. If you don't want your man to die, you better hurry up."_

The connection was broken.

"Fuck!" Steve banged his fist against the control table. He swiveled his head towards Kono. "What the hell do we have on this guy?"

Chin hurried back over. "SWAT's on their way, along with their best hostage negotiator."

Kono swiped the console, sending a driver's license photo to one of the monitor screens. "Bobby Linton, age sixteen. Parents are Deke and Lenora Linton. Deke Linton was arrested three days ago for beating the hell out of Lenora. He was released on bail yesterday. Lenora is still in a coma at Queens."

"What about the brother, Charlie?" Steve asked, rubbing his hand over his face.

Kono swiped the console again, sending another photo array to a second monitor. "It was a pretty cut and dried case, Boss. A year ago, when Charlie was eighteen, he killed Kai in a bar fight. Pled out and got ten years."

"Kono, talk to the DA who handled the case and get a search warrant for the Linton place. I'll meet you there. We need to find out everything there is to know about this kid." Steve began issuing rapid fire orders. "Chin, call Rachel and tell her to keep Grace away from the TV. It's not going to be long before the local news picks this up. Then I want you to head down there and meet up with the hostage negotiator."

"Where are you going, boss?" Kono asked.

"To talk to the Governor," Steve began to barrel down the hallway. "I need Charlie Linton put in our custody until this is over."

**-H 5-0-**

"Well that went well," Danny muttered. He shifted his position against Lori's thigh and immediately regretted it. He moaned as pain, sharp and piercing, radiated from his left shoulder down his arm and across his chest.

"Hey, take it easy," Lori cautioned, tentatively lifting her hand from the wad of towels she'd been pressing to Danny's shoulder. "I think the bleeding's slowing. Just stay still, okay?"

Lori returned pressure to the wound and Danny groaned, his lips twitching in pain, his brow furrowing deeply. He forced himself to take several slow deep breaths until the pain finally ratcheted back a few notches.

He glanced up at Bobby. He was sitting on a table, seemingly lost in thought, but his hands still tightly gripped the gun and Danny knew the boy's senses were on full alert, fueled by adrenaline and desperation.

"I have a brother," Danny said softly.

The teen's eyes immediately turned towards him.

"His name's Mattie," the injured detective continued. "Got into trouble last year. I never saw it coming."

Danny's lips twisted in a sharp moan. He closed his eyes again as another stab of pain clawed at his shoulder. He felt his heart speed up and it suddenly felt like he was tilting, the world spinning around him. He broke out in a cold sweat, panting shallowly.

He felt Lori gently wipe the sweat from his forehead with one of the towels.

"He's going into shock. From the blood loss." Lori said. "He needs help, Bobby."

Her voice was tinny and small in Danny's ears, like it was coming from a long distance away. Gradually the room swam back into focus.

He opened his eyes to find Lori worriedly peering down at him, her fingers tightly pressed to the underside of one of his wrists.

"I'm okay," Danny slurred. "Thirsty."

"We have bottled water," Alana ventured cautiously from her chair in the corner. "I could get him one."

Bobby nodded from his table on the other side of the dining room. "Get me one too, would you?"

The girl skirted around Danny and Lori, heading towards a beverage case. She pulled out several bottles of water. She set two on the floor next to the 5-0 detectives and then skittishly held one out to Bobby.

The boy took the bottle from her and she skittered back to her chair.

"What did your brother do?" Bobby asked curiously, uncapping his bottle of water.

Danny let the cool water Lori had tipped into his mouth slide down his throat. Swallowing, he glanced back at the teenager.

"Mattie stole money from a lot of good people," Danny said quietly. "I didn't believe it at first. When I asked him about it, he denied it. But he finally came clean."

"Why'd he do it?" Bobby asked, fiddling with the label on his water bottle.

"He panicked," Danny closed his eyes, remembering the fight he'd had with Mattie in his brother's suite at the Hilton. Mattie's protestations of innocence had fallen on deaf ears. Danny had already known his brother was guilty as sin. What he'd wanted to know, what he'd needed to know, was why.

"A little more?" Lori asked.

At Danny's slight nod, she held the bottle to his lips even as she kept one hand firmly pressed against the towels covering Danny's wound.

With effort, Danny lifted his head. Lori awkwardly tilted the bottle. Some of the water sloshed over the side of Danny's mouth, running down his cheek and neck.

"Sorry," Lori apologized softly, hurriedly setting down the bottle and wiping the spilled water off with a clean towel.

Danny swallowed and smiled slightly, teasing, "S'okay. It's not your fault you're a little clumsy. No one's perfect."

"Well you should know," Lori glared mildly down at him.

"What happened to him? Your brother?" Bobby asked thoughtfully, ignoring the jibes the two teammates were exchanging. "Is he in jail?"

Danny glanced at the troubled teen. "He should be. But he ran. Now he's a fugitive. We haven't seen or heard from him in nearly a year."

"My brother's innocent," Bobby said firmly, his dark eyes flashing.

"How do you know?" Danny asked quietly.

"I know," Bobby insisted, ripping the label from the bottle. "There's no way he would ever…I just know."

"Okay," Danny nodded. "If that's true, then Steve will prove it."

"We're not leaving here until he does," Bobby mumbled darkly, adjusting his grip on his gun.

Danny sighed and closed his eyes. He was exhausted. He hurt everywhere. He wanted more than anything to simply start the day over again and order pizza for lunch. In lieu of that, he guessed he'd settle for oblivion.

"You think your brother's bad?" Lori asked lightly, patting Danny insistently on the cheek until he opened his eyes. "My sister was a beauty queen. And she only went to college to get her MRS degree. She graduated with honors: became the trophy wife of a rich politician—they have the most photogenic children I've ever seen. Everyone thinks she's perfect."

"It must make being clumsy all that more difficult to bear," Danny snorted weakly. "Not to mention the whole runaway bride thing."

"Yeah, I don't exactly measure up by comparison," Lori admitted with a shrug. "I always kinda hated her."

Danny burst out laughing and then gasped in pain as the movement painfully jarred his shoulder.

"You know, you really should try not to move," Lori suggested, raising an eyebrow at the injured man.

"Thank you," Danny panted. "For stating…the obvious. You're…so helpful."

"See? I bet you wish you were stuck in here with my sister," Lori's lips quirked into a smile.

Danny couldn't help but snicker slightly. He winced as he reached over with his good arm to snag Lori's free hand, squeezing her fingers gently. "Nah, I'm not a big fan of perfect," he whispered.

Lori bent down, her hair falling around Danny's face as she gazed into his pain filled heavy lidded blue eyes. "We're going to get out of here, Danny. Believe it. You have to keep fighting. Promise me you won't give up."

Lori's phone rang. She smiled, firmly squeezing Danny's hand as she whispered, "See? Maybe Steve already has something."

Danny nodded, blinking his eyes as his vision began to tunnel, threatening to send the world spinning into darkness.

Only when Lori answered the phone, it wasn't Steve on the other end of the line.

The last thing Danny heard before he passed out was an unfamiliar female voice asking how things were going.

**-H 5-0—**

The street outside Wong's Deli was utter chaos. The entire block had been cordoned off. A large mobile command post took up half the street. An ambulance was parked next to it. News vans and bystanders crowded the edges of the barricades.

Chin flashed his badge at one of the SWAT members standing guard outside the mobile communications unit, and the cop pounded on the door. It flew open and a bulky pitbull of a man clothed in SWAT gear waved Chin inside.

Chin climbed the metal stairs and maneuvered his way through the crowded van towards a slim red haired woman sitting at the front. She wore a portable headset and was focused entirely on a tablet she held in her hands.

When she heard Chin approach, she swiveled around in her chair, turned her brilliant green eyes up at him and held out a hand.

"You must be Lt. Chin Ho Kelly," she smiled. "I'm Lt. April Reign."

At Chin's raised eyebrow she laughed. "I know, I know. My parents should have been jailed for child abuse. My dad thought it was hilarious."

Chin took her hand, holding it firmly for a long moment. "My team has people inside."

"I know," April nodded, her gaze never wavering from Chin's. "I'm going to get them out. I'm very good at my job, Lt. Kelly."

Chin nodded, letting go of her hand. Slowly he sank down into a seat next to her.

"I understand Commander McGarrett spoke with Bobby Linton earlier?" April asked, she leaned against the chair back and brought a large hot cup to her lips. "How did he sound?"

"He only spoke once. Officer Lori Weston is actually the one who called us," Chin said, steepling his fingers. "When Bobby did finally speak, he sounded angry, panicked, desperate, and scared. He hung up on us when Steve asked him to let us take Danny out of there."

"That's Detective Danny Williams," April said, referencing her tablet. "Do you know how badly he's been hurt?"

"Only that he was shot in the shoulder and we think he's bleeding heavily," Chin said.

"We're working on getting a video feed," April said, setting her cup down and tapping one long slender finger on the lid. "We're drilling down through the crawlspace above the ceiling. We'd hoped to tap into existing security feeds, but the owner of the deli, Hiroshi Wong, tells us the cameras are fakes."

"His daughter's inside, too," Chin sighed.

"Yeah," April took a sip of her drink. "It took us a while to calm him down."

Suddenly the monitors in the van flared to life. Three monitors all showing the same thing: an overhead view of the dining room of the deli.

"Shit," Chin muttered, his heart twisting in his chest as he covered his mouth with his hand.

All four people in the deli appeared on camera, but Chin only had eyes for two—Danny and Lori dead center in the camera's view. Lori was sitting on the floor, Danny's head on her lap. One of her hands was pressed to blood soaked towels on Danny's shoulder. Her other hand loosely looped his wrist. And Danny…

"Shit," Chin whispered again.

Danny looked awful. His skin pale, clammy and sweaty. His eyes at half mast. And the blood. Lori's hands were coated in it. It drenched Danny's entire left side.

"Shit," Chin repeated dazedly.

"Lt. Kelly," April's strong voice broke through the haze. "I'm going to get him out of there. But I need your help. Do you know why this kid targeted your team?"

Chin cleared his throat, swallowed hard. He tore his eyes from the monitors. "Graham Wilson. He took a bunch of tourists hostage last year—our team cleared him of murder charges."

"And now Bobby wants you to clear his brother," April nodded thoughtfully. "Any chance the brother didn't do it?"

"None," Chin shook his head. "A couple of marshals are on their way to pick up Charlie Linton now."

"Good," April again fingered the lid of her cup. "He might come in handy."

Firmly April shoved the cup out of her way and adjusted the headset on her ear. "Okay, let's get this party started." She took a deep breath and tapped a button on the phone.

Lori's cell began to ring.

**\- H 5-0 –**

Steve pounded on the Linton's front door. A dog barked in the yard to the left, its bark loud and insistent.

"No one home, boss?" Kono asked.

They both wore SWAT gear and were backed up by two HPD cruisers.

"Let's execute the warrant," Steve said, slamming the adhesive paper on the front door seconds before he kicked it in.

Quickly the four cops and two 5-0 detectives moved from room to room, clearing the house.

The house was an odd combination of cleanliness and disorder. If Steve had to guess, the disorder was recent, timed to the hospitalization of Lenora. Deke appeared to be a neat freak. As long as he had someone else to do the cleaning.

He moved slowly through the small house. Kitchen. Bathroom. Master bedroom. Bobby's bedroom.

Steve walked into Bobby's room. Bunkbeds lined one wall. The bottom bunk was disheveled, a pair of pajamas strewn across turned down covers. The top bed was perfectly made. Steve figured it hadn't been slept in since Charlie went to prison.

Other than the unmade bed, the room was impeccably clean. And impersonal. No posters were tacked to the wall. No pictures on the desk. Only school books and library books on the bookshelf. No ipod. No computer. No tablet. If Bobby owned any such devices, then they were with him.

"Boss!" Kono yelled from outside. "Over here!"

Steve hustled out of the house and into the backyard. When he got to Kono, she stepped aside. He hadn't needed to see it to know what she had found. He'd been around death long enough to know what it smelled like.

"Fuck." Steve breathed, rubbing his forehead with his hand.

"What the hell is going on here, Steve?" Kono asked in bewilderment.

"Nothing good, Kono," Steve shook his head.

Deke Linton's body lay crumpled on the grass. Three shots center mass.

**tbc…**


	3. Chapter 3

"I'll call Max, Boss," Kono said softly.

Steve nodded. He bent down, holding one hand to his nose as he knelt next to the body. Max would officially confirm the identity, but there was no question the man was Deke Linton. He looked exactly like his mugshot.

Death made the man look small, pathetic. The hands he'd used to pummel his wife and children were lax. His face had frozen in a look of surprise, as if he'd never expected his murderer to actually pull the trigger.

Kono knelt down next to Steve. "You think Bobby Linton killed his father?"

"Yeah…I do," Steve nodded. He glanced around. "There's no sign of forced entry. Looks like nothing's been stolen. Ten to one the slugs Max pulls from the body match Bobby's gun."

Kono stood up. "I don't get it, Boss. What logic is this kid following? He shoots and kills his father then goes to the deli, shoots Danny, and then takes Danny, Lori and Alana Wong hostage. All so we'll re-open his brother's case?"

"You're looking for logic where there is none, Kono," Steve slowly pulled himself to his feet. "Or at least not a logic we'd ever understand."

Steve looked around the small yard. A butterfly hovered over a rose bush along the fence. A bird chirped and next door the dog began to bark again. The butterfly startled and moved on. The sun was beginning its slow descent into the west—the shadows in the backyard already beginning to deepen.

"What are you thinking?" Kono asked quietly, shoving her hands deep into the pockets of her jeans.

Steve cast one more glance over the crime scene before responding. Finally he turned to Kono and said gravely, "I think it took this kid a long time to bring himself to act, but when he did, he acted out of blind rage."

"Controlled rage, though," Kono pointed at the body. "I mean look at the body. Three shots, dead center. He didn't just fire wildly hoping to hit something."

"No," Steve shook his head, peering down at the body. "He was close enough not to miss. From the look of things Deke didn't even try to defend himself. It must have shocked the hell out of him when Bobby pulled that trigger."

"Do you think it shocked the hell out of Bobby too?" Kono asked.

"Definitely," Steve nodded.

"Why did he shoot Danny?" Kono asked, puzzled.

"This kid has a heavy trigger finger when panicked. He's like a bomb with a short fuse, just waiting to go off," Steve sighed. He turned and began walking back towards the house. "Let's go. I want to be there when Charlie Linton arrives."

"You think he can talk Bobby into coming out of there?" Kono asked, hurrying after the taller man.

"I hope so," Steve muttered. "Talking Bobby down may be the only way we get everyone out of that deli alive." He scrubbed his hand over his face. He just hoped to hell Danny could hang on long enough.

**\- H 5-0 -**

Chin watched on the monitor as Lori reached over and grabbed her ringing cell phone. She put the cell on speaker, set it on the floor, and returned her hand to monitoring the pulse on the underside of Danny's wrist.

_"Steve?"_

Lori's voice was calm and cool, but her body language told a different story. She was rigid and tense, her head bent anxiously towards their fallen teammate. Just looking at the monitor, it was hard to tell if Danny was dead or simply passed out. But from the lack of reaction on Lori's part, Chin hoped it was the latter.

"No, my name is Lt. April Reign. I'm a hostage negotiator, and I'll be here with all of you until we get this situation resolved safely," April said, leaning over the counter and studying the video feed carefully as she spoke. "Can I speak with Bobby, please?"

They watched as Lori's eyes flicked to the teenager. The boy shifted uncomfortably on the table, but he didn't speak.

"Bobby?" April asked, her voice as kind as it was insistent. "Are you there?"

 _"Yeah,"_ Bobby's voice squeaked and he cleared his throat. _"Yeah, I'm here."_

"Can you tell me how everyone's doing in there?" April asked. "How's Danny?"

 _"I…he…"_ Bobby abruptly stopped, his breath hitching in his throat. He wiped the sweat from his forehead with one hand. _"Has McGarrett cleared my brother yet? You tell him…he needs to hurry."_

"He's working as fast as he can, Bobby. I can assure you he's taking this very seriously," April said. "We all are. So tell me Bobby, how's Danny really doing?"

Chin knew April could already see how Danny was doing. The detective had been steadily bleeding for well over an hour and was as close to death as he'd ever been outside of the sarin exposure last year. But April seemed intent on getting the teen to acknowledge it for himself.

_"He's…God."_

They watched as the teen held the long edge of the gun barrel to his cheek and looked down at Lori and Danny. He gasped out small sob.

_"He might be dead…is he dead? Oh my god…did I kill someone?"_

As Bobby spoke, he was staring off into space, his eyes nearly glazed over and glistening with tears. To Chin, the kid looked positively destroyed.

 _"No, Bobby,"_ Lori's soft voice broke in. _"Danny's alive. But he needs help. Now."_

"Bobby," April broke in. "I can tell, listening to you, that you didn't mean to hurt anyone. Am I wrong? Did you mean to shoot Detective Williams?"

 _"No!"_ Bobby wailed. He wrapped his thin arms around his slender frame. _"I don't know what happened. The gun went off. Why didn't he listen to me? Why didn't he just help me? This never woulda happened. I don't know….I don't know…"_

"Who are you talking about Bobby?" April frowned in concentration. She was scribbling notes as she talked. "Who didn't help you?"

 _"Commander McGarrett!"_ Bobby yelled angrily, rubbing at his hair with one hand. _"I asked him to reopen my brother's case. He…he said…"_ Bobby gasped, sobbing. _"He said there was nothing he could do. But I was….I was running…out of time… I didn't have time."_

April arched an eyebrow and shoved a pad of paper towards Chin. On it was written, underlined twice, "subject talked to McGarrett?"

To Bobby, April said, "Bobby, I want you to calm down. Okay? We're helping you now. We're listening now. We didn't know how desperately you needed help. Listen Bobby, do you want to talk to your brother?"

 _"Yes,"_ Bobby hunched over, tears streaking his face.

"I can make that happen, Bobby, but in order to do that, you need to do something for me," April said, her eyes never leaving the video feed. "Do you understand?"

 _"What do you want?"_ Bobby's voice was plaintive.

"Danny Williams, Bobby," April said firmly. "If you want to talk to your brother, you have to give me Danny."

 _"No, I can't!"_ Bobby shook his head frantically. _"If I let him go you guys will stop looking for the real killer. You'll stall until you can bust in here and kill me. I can't die…not before…not before she's…"_ Bobby broke off, his voice hiccupping as he fought to catch his breath.

"I'm telling you Bobby," April's voice flowed with conviction. Again she made a notation on the pages in front of her, writing the word "she" and underlining it several times. She wrote and circled the word "mother" next to it.

"If you let us get Danny the help he needs, we won't stop looking. We will talk to your brother, and continue to investigate his case – I promise." April's voice filled with empathy. "Do you know what my job is Bobby?"

Chin saw Bobby simply shake his head. The teen's chest heaved. But Bobby didn't know they could see him.

"Bobby, do you know what my job is?" April asked again.

_"To save the hostages."_

Bobby's voice was small and scared. To Chin, the kid looked tired and worn out. He was in deep. Something so big he didn't know how to get out.

"And you, Bobby," April said. "My job is to make sure everyone comes out of that deli alive. Everyone. Including you. I know you don't want to hurt anyone else Bobby. You never meant to hurt Detective Williams. Help me make it right. Help me get everyone in there with you out alive."

_"I have to…I have to think…"_

Bobby hung his head, pulled his knees to his chest. He slid one hand around his neck as he balanced the gun on his knees.

"Okay, Bobby," April said. "I'll let you know when your brother arrives. Then you tell me what you want to do."

Bobby nodded, and then motioned for Lori to hang up the phone.

When Lori did, April pulled the headset from her head and dropped it on the counter. She flipped a knob on the monitor to bring up the audio feed. Then she grabbed her cup and took a long sip. She held up a hand and snapped a finger towards one of the cops in the trailer.

"Do we have any word on the mom's condition?" she called out.

"I think she's still comatose," the cop responded, "the hospital is supposed to call if that changes."

April nodded. She pursed her lips and turned back towards the monitor feed, watching Bobby thoughtfully.

"Do you think he'll let Danny out?" Chin asked softly.

"I think there's a good chance," April nodded. "When do we expect Charlie to get here?"

"The Governor sent a helicopter for him, so he should be arriving within the half hour," Chin glanced at his watch.

He looked back at the monitor. Lori was bending over Danny, talking quietly to him as she gently stroked his cheek.

April leaned forward and sighed. "Look Chin, I know I can talk Bobby into letting Danny out. I just don't know if it will be in time."

**\- H 5-0 -**

Steve and Kono barreled through the crowds of bystanders. Flashing their badges at the cops working the barriers, they made a beeline for SWAT's command post. The door to the trailer was guarded by a burly guy in SWAT gear, but he must have recognized Steve because he'd swung the door open before the Navy SEAL even said a word.

Steve nodded his thanks and bounded inside. The interior of the mobile unit could only be described as controlled chaos, and at the center of it was a tall, lithe redhead. She was dressed for the long haul—fitted jeans topped by a dark green blouse. A beige jacket hung from a nearby chair.

"You must be Commander Steve McGarrett," she said, walking towards him even as she motioned him further inside.

"And you're April Reign," Steve nodded, holding out his hand. "Chin filled me in. I'm told you're the best."

"I'm good at my job, Commander McGarrett," April's green eyes were somber as she firmly took hand. "I'll do everything I can to get your people safely out of there."

"I appreciate that," Steve dropped her hand and jerked a thumb behind him to introduce the final member of his team not trapped inside the deli. "This is Kono."

As the two women exchanged greetings, Steve walked to the front of the command post, exchanging a nod with Chin. He came to a stop in front of the monitors that were displaying the video feed from the deli. His eyes were drawn to them, and once he began watching, he couldn't look away.

"Jesus," Steve muttered, running a hand through his hair. Up until now, he'd been able to keep the image of Danny shot and bleeding out of his mind. He'd pushed it back into the distance while he leapt into action, kept himself occupied with the Governor and executing the search warrant. But now…it took everything he had not to force his way into that deli and haul Danny out.

He felt Kono step up behind him. Heard her sharp intake of breath as her eyes found Danny on the monitor, prone on the floor of the deli.

"He looks bad," Kono whispered, her voice trembling.

"We're gonna get him out of there, Kono," Steve said fiercely. He clenched his jaw, forced himself to steady, and turned towards April. "Deke Linton is dead. It's a fair bet Bobby killed him."

April pursed her lips and nodded. "For the moment, that doesn't change anything. SWAT can't get a clean shot and it's too risky to breach. I'm going to have to talk that boy out of there. I've told Bobby if he wants to talk to Charlie, he has to give us Danny first. Right now, I'm just waiting for Charlie to arrive. Last I heard they're ten minutes out," April responded. "Now that you're here, maybe you can tell me if you remember a meeting with this kid."

"A meeting?" Steve looked sharply at the hostage negotiator. His gaze snapped back to the monitor and he stared hard at the teenage boy sitting on the table. He shook his head. Admittedly the teen looked familiar, but he couldn't place where he'd seen him before today.

"Bobby seems to think he had a meeting with you to discuss reopening his brother's murder case," Chin prompted.

Realization hit Steve like a blow to the chest, knocking the wind out of him. "Crap," he breathed. "Crap crap crap."

"You do remember him," April quietly studied the task force commander's face.

"It wasn't a meeting so much as a drive by," Steve shook his head. "I ran into the kid in the hallway at HQ. We'd just been called to a scene. I was rounding everyone up when he tried to stop me. I blew him off. I didn't even remember him." Steve rubbed his eyes, a headache suddenly stabbing at his temples. "I barely even looked at him. Just told him if his brother was already convicted, he needed a lawyer to appeal, that there was nothing I could do. Dammit! I should have…"

April grabbed him lightly by the arm, her eyes full of sympathy. "This wasn't your fault, Commander McGarrett. Even if you'd taken the time to have a full on meeting, you wouldn't have reopened his brother's case. You didn't know any of this was going to happen."

The burly SWAT guy opened the door, catching April's eye. "The brother's here. Where do you want him?"

"Bring him in," April directed. "But when I call Bobby, I don't want Charlie in here until I'm ready for him."

"We can hold him in a cruiser," the cop nodded. He waved a hand at someone outside the trailer and then a shackled man was escorted inside.

Charles Linton still wore his orange jumpsuit. He was a big guy, well muscled, and Steve could understand how Lenora and Bobby Linton could rely on him to stand between them and his father. Still, he was only nineteen, and he looked it.

"You know what your brother's done." It was a statement, not a question. Steve knew the prisoner had been filled in on the events that had brought him here.

"I can't believe it," Charlie shook his head. "Bobby's a quiet kid. He'd try and melt into the wall if he could. This isn't like him."

"Well, like him or not, this is where we stand," April cut in. "He seems to think you're innocent. And he's willing to let a man die to prove it. Are you? Innocent?"

"No Ma'am," Charlie said softly, shaking his head. "I did it. Didn't mean to, but I did it."

"Do you think you can convince your brother to put down that weapon and come out?" April asked. Her green eyes were laser focused on Charlie's face. "Will he listen to you?"

"He always has before," Charlie shrugged. "But…"

"But what?" April asked sharply.

"That was before I left him alone with that monster," Charlie lowered his eyes and shuffled his feet. "I'm not sure he's ever forgiven me for that."

"Maybe that's where you start then," April mused. "You ask for his forgiveness."

"Steve, April," Chin called urgently from the front of the trailer. "Get up here. Something's happening." He turned up the audio.

Steve bolted to the front of the trailer. Bobby was crying. Lori was pleading. And Danny. Steve's heart lurched at the sound of Danny's voice.

_"Tell Gracie Danno loves her."_

Danny was saying goodbye.


	4. Chapter 4

Rachel sat at the dinner table, absentmindedly moving the vegetables around with her fork. One hand rested on her burgeoning belly. Stan sat across the table from her, Grace in the middle. They were having an early dinner because Stan had a red eye to catch.

"How did you do on your math test today, Gracie?" Stan asked, spearing a piece of meat with his fork.

The little girl shrugged. She picked at her mashed potatoes, her brown eyes straying to her mother. "I think I did okay."

"Did you follow the steps for the long division just like I showed you?" Stan smiled at the ten year old.

Grace nodded, finally bringing the forkful of mashed potatoes to her mouth. She chewed and swallowed, adding, "Tommy got three different answers than I did."

Stan glanced at Rachel across the table. They'd both agreed with Chin to keep news of Danny's situation from Grace until they knew the detective had been rescued, but Danny and Rachel's daughter was nothing if not perceptive. The little girl was already honing in on Rachel's distraction. It wouldn't take her long to suss out that something was going on with her father.

So Stan did the only thing he could think to do. He provided a distraction of his own.

"You know, I was thinking," Stan said, setting his fork on his plate, "that after the baby comes, we should all take a vacation together. We could rent a jet, go anywhere we want. Disneyland, New York City, London, Paris. The sky's the limit."

"What?" Rachel startled, dropping her fork with a clatter as she stared in surprise across the table at her husband.

"Disneyland," Grace giggled, clapping her hands together. "Can we go on the Matterhorn? You said I'd be old enough when I was ten. And I'm ten now!"

"Well, I guess Disneyland it is," Stan chuckled, glancing at his wife. "And I kinda had my heart set on Paris."

"Give her another few years," Rachel gave Stan a wan smile. "Then be careful what you wished for."

"I can't wait to tell Danno," Grace crowed. "Can I call him, Mommy? Can I?"

Rachel's smile froze on her face. Her lips twitched. She grabbed her fork. Gripping it hard she returned to pushing the food around on her plate. Voice tight with suppressed emotion, Rachel said, "Finish your dinner, Gracie. And then you have homework to do."

"I'm pretty sure your dad told me he was doing some stakeout tonight," Stan held up his hands and sighed. "You won't be able to reach him, I don't think. You can tell him later, okay?"

"Okay," Grace shrugged and sighed.

Just then they heard loud voices from the foyer, heels clicking a fast staccato on tile and then a well dressed woman flew into the dining room, Rachel and Stan's distraught maid, Kaialani, right behind her.

"I told her you weren't seeing visitors Miss Rachel and Mr. Stan," Kaialani rushed into the dining room, glaring fiercely at the intruder.

"Oh my god," the woman's well manicured hands flapped over her mouth, her eyes wild, her hair slightly mussed. Words flew out of her mouth like an unstoppable train. "I came over as soon as I heard. Oh my god, Rachel. I know he's your ex, but you must be so distraught. It's all over the news. I just saw an interview with that doctor who does the morning talk shows. He says every hour that goes by lessens that poor detective's chance of survival, and it's been almost three. They don't have any idea when they're going to get him out of there. I keep saying they should just storm the place already. I don't know why they haven't. Oh my god. Rachel. Oh my god."

"Mom?" Grace's voice quavered as she turned large dark eyes on her mother's pale face.

"Oh you poor dear," the woman turned towards Grace and wrung her hands. "You poor poor dear. To lose a father, so young. Oh you poor dear."

"Mom?" Grace began to cry, her lips quivering. "What's she mean? Is she saying Danno's dead? Is my daddy dead?"

"Shut up!" Rachel whirled towards their interloper, thrusting herself up from the chair so fast it overturned with a loud clatter. One hand protectively held over her belly, eyes churning with fury she said, "Shut up and get out of my house Isabella. Right the hell now!"

"Well," Isabella stared at Rachel in shock that quickly turned to a huff. "Well, I never. This is the thanks I get for being neighborly and reaching out to make sure you're okay in this time of tragedy? I just never!"

"Stan," Rachel growled.

"My pleasure," Stan stood up, tossing his napkin on the table and grabbing Isabella's elbow. As the woman squeaked in protest, Stan marched her out of their house.

"Grace," Rachel began, stepping towards her daughter. "Your father is not dead."

"Where is Danno?" Grace pulled her knees to her chest and wrapped her arms tightly around her legs as she continued to cry. "Why would Mrs. Chapman say that?"

"Because she's a nosy old biddy who gets off on other people's pain," Rachel snapped.

She immediately softened, going to Grace and wrapping her arms around the girl's thin shoulders.

"I didn't tell you because I didn't want you to worry," Rachel gently stroked her daughter's hair. "But I wouldn't lie to you. Danny is not dead."

"But he _might_ die?" Grace's eyes sent daggers of accusation into her mother.

Rachel sighed, her eyes filling with tears. "Yes, Gracie."

"Can we see him?" Grace asked plaintively.

"Not yet," Rachel shook her head, screwing up the courage to tell her daughter the rest. "He's trapped inside a building with a man who has a gun. Sweetheart…your dad was shot. We…we don't know yet how badly he's been hurt. Uncle Steve is working very hard to get him out."

"He's being held hostage?" Grace whispered, her small body beginning to shake.

Rachel bit her lip and nodded.

And then toenails were skittering across the tile as the dog Danny had gotten Grace hurtled happily into the dining room. The dog launched itself at the frightened little girl.

Grace unfolded herself from the chair and threw her arms around the dog's neck, burying her face in his fur as she began to sob uncontrollably. The dog wriggled and squirmed, lapping at the tears streaming down the child's face.

Rachel glanced behind her. She reached out and Stan grabbed her hand. She squeezed it tightly.

"Thank you," she said, blinking back tears.

Stan drew Rachel towards him, wending his arms around her stomach. Gently he kissed her hair. "I'm cancelling my trip. I should have done it the second we found out about Danny. I'll send Rothby. I'm not leaving my girls until we know Danny is safe."

"Thank you," Rachel choked back a sob.

"Tell me what you need," Stan whispered, resting his cheek against Rachel's.

"You're doing it," Rachel turned—settling her forehead against Stan's shoulder as tears beginning to slide down her cheeks. What she couldn't tell him was the only thing she needed was for Danny to be all right.

**\- H 5-0 -**

"Come on, Danny, open your eyes," Lori murmured, trailing her thumb along Danny's cheek.

"I didn't mean to kill him," Bobby mumbled, gazing into space.

Lori studied the teenager. His eyes looked dilated, but she didn't think he was on anything. Instead, he seemed to be in shock. She wondered if she simply got up and walked over, if she could just take the gun away and end this whole thing.

Then he straightened, his fingers tightening around the gun. He seemed to come back to himself.

Gently Lori continued to stroke Danny's cheek, her eyes turned thoughtfully up towards the boy.

"You must love your big brother very much, to do all this for him," Lori finally said.

Bobby nodded. Shrugged. "He…he's always protected us."

"You and your mom?" Lori guessed softly.

"He wasn't afraid of him," Bobby's breath hitched in wonder. "He was never afraid of him."

"Of your dad," Lori said quietly.

Bobby nodded. His hands began to shake and he gripped his gun even tighter with both hands until it stopped.

"Does the gun make you feel safe Bobby?" Lori asked. "Is that why you got it?"

Bobby nodded. And then his face twisted with shame. He looked down at his hands. At the gun.

"He laughed," Bobby said, his voice cracking. He shook his head, as if to clear it. "He saw the gun and he laughed. Said I'd never have the guts to use it. He turned his back on me. He walked away. I stood there. My gun pointed at his back. And he walked away."

Bobby looked at Lori in despair. "I couldn't protect her. It's my fault…I'm…I'm a coward. Just like he said. Charlie. I need Charlie. She needs Charlie. I'm doing this for her you know. Do you understand? I have to do this for my mom."

"It's not your fault, Bobby," Danny's voice was hoarse. "Abusers—they like to make you think so, but it's not."

The injured detective drew in a ragged breath. He struggled to open his eyes, but his eyelids would only rise to half mast.

"Danny?" Lori gently rubbed his good arm. She asked softly, "How are you doing?"

"It doesn't really hurt anymore," he murmured, sighing tiredly.

"That's good, Danny," Lori said, forcing herself to smile down at her teammate even as her heart sank.

"No," Danny's lips quirked into a sad smile. "I'm not a doctor, but even I know it's definitely not good. Plus, you're a bad liar Weston. I think that smile is going to break your face." Danny let out a small chuckle that quickly turned into a cough.

"Ever the charmer," Lori said dryly even as she closed her eyes to hold back tears.

"What happened to your mom, Bobby?" Danny rolled his head on Lori's thigh and tried to focus his gaze on the teenager.

"He beat the shit out of her," Bobby's fingers tightened convulsively around his weapon. "Like really beat the shit out of her this time. She's in the hospital. In a coma. And they already let that bastard out."

"We can help her," Lori said. "There are shelters she can go to. We have counselors she can talk to."

"She always goes back," Bobby angrily sucked in a breath. "Doesn't matter how many times he hurts her, she always goes back. Charlie's the only one who can make him stop."

Suddenly Danny groaned, his hands curling into fists. His eyes squeezed shut, his face twisting with pain as he panted for breath.

Helplessly Lori looked up at the teen. "Please, Bobby. Let him go. His death does nothing for your cause. Can't you see that? He has a daughter. A little girl who loves him more than life itself. He's a great father. Don't be the reason she loses him. I'll stay with you. I'll stay with you as long as you want. But please…let him go, Bobby."

Bobby brought one hand to his mouth, stared at the injured man struggling for life on the floor and wrestled with indecision. He bit down hard on one knuckle.

"Please, Bobby," Lori pleaded.

Danny sighed. Feebly he reached for Lori's hand.

"Tell Gracie," he slurred, his eyelids fluttering.

"No!" Lori cried fiercely, shaking her head at her teammate. She glared at Bobby. "Let him go."

"Tell Gracie Danno loves her," Danny whispered.

Lori's cell rang. She grabbed it, putting it on speaker.

 _"We have your brother here Bobby. He wants to talk to you,"_ April's crisp and calm voice filled the tension filled room. _"Have you thought about our deal? Are you ready to trade Detective Williams for the chance to talk to your brother?"_

Danny's blue eyes took on a far away gaze as his head lolled slowly to the side. His fingers uncurled as he gazed unseeing across the room.

As Bobby finally nodded, Danny let out one final breath before his chest went still.


	5. Chapter 5

"Danny!" Lori cried. She placed one hand on her teammate's chest and looked up at Bobby. The phone was still on speaker and she hoped to hell April would react quickly enough to save Danny's life.

In one smooth motion, Lori eased Danny's head to the floor and stood up, adrenaline helping her push past the cramping in her legs. "He's not breathing. We have to let the EMT's in here now. Do you _understand_ Bobby? No one is going to make a move on you. We need to get Danny out of here."

Slowly she walked towards Bobby, even as she waved one hand at Alana and motioned her towards the door.

"Alana, unlock that door and then come over here by me."

Alana cast a fearful glance at Bobby, but when he offered no protest, the girl skirted around Danny's legs and threw the bolt on the door. She grabbed Lori's proffered hand and wedged herself against the older women's body.

"Bobby, we're going to move slowly backwards, away from the door so we can clear a space for the EMT's to come inside. Alana and I will stay in front of you."

Dumbly the boy nodded, nervously bringing his gun up until it was touching Lori in the ribs.

"It's going to be okay, Bobby," Lori soothed, sparing a glance towards the door as she cautiously edged the three of them backwards.

 _"Bobby,"_ April's voice was calm and cool on the phone. _"Lori's right. I'm sending in two EMT's with a gurney. They'll enter, get Danny, and then leave. Okay?"_

Bobby gulped. His hands were shaking.

 _"Bobby,"_ April's voice was patient but firm. _"I need you to respond so I know the guys I'm sending in are going to be safe. All we want to do is save Danny. Tell me it's okay to send in the EMT's."_

"O…Okay," Bobby swallowed convulsively.

 _"They're going to knock once, and then they're going to enter. Got it?"_ April explained.

"Um, yeah, okay," Bobby's head bobbed up and down.

 _"Just stay calm, Bobby. Everything's going to be okay. Your brother's here. He really wants to talk to you. We'll get him on the phone as soon as we have Danny safely out."_ April continued.

"Okay," Bobby licked his lips, his throat gone bone dry.

There was a knock at the door, and then the door swung open. Bobby jumped slightly.

"It's okay, Bobby," Lori smiled reassuringly and nodded at him. The kid was breathing in quick pants, adrenaline going full force. His entire body was quivering with nerves.

A gurney clattered inside the deli. The EMT's didn't even look up as they lifted their precious cargo and placed him on the stretcher. They were gone as quickly as they arrived.

" **Lock** it… Lock the door," Bobby ordered, his chest heaving.

"Go on Alana. It's okay," Lori smiled at the girl and gave her a slight push.

Alana stumbled to the door, re-bolting it. She retook her seat on the chair in the corner and hung her head between her legs. Her body started to shake as she began to cry.

 _"Is everyone okay in there?"_ April's voice broke the silence.

"Yeah," Lori wiped the sweat from her forehead with her arm. "We're fine." She looked down at her hands. They were covered in blood, mostly dried now. She clenched and unclenched her fists, clamping her jaw against the nausea rising in her gut. It wasn't time to lose it yet. No matter how much she wanted to.

She took a deep breath, centering herself and then looked up at Bobby, asking softly, "Do you mind if I go behind the counter and wash my hands?"

Bobby shook his head. He moved back to the table he'd been sitting on and grabbed his bottle of water, drinking greedily.

As the cool water ran over Lori's hands she leaned her waist against the sink. Dark red water swirled over the drain. She felt her legs begin to tremble and again she ordered herself to pull it together.

This day was far from over.

**\- H 5-0 –**

Steve had bolted from the command trailer the second he knew April was going to send in the EMT's to get Danny. It wasn't protocol. You never wanted to give a hostage taker more hostages, but it was the right thing to do. It wasn't lost on Steve that April had just stuck her neck out to give Danny a chance to live. If things went south, she'd be called to account for it. The risk April had just taken wasn't something Steve would soon forget.

He hovered near the back of the ambulance, staying out of sight of the windows of the deli. There was little chance that Bobby would have seen him, but the teenager still believed McGarrett was out there looking for the real killer, and it wasn't time to disabuse him of that notion. That was April's job, and he didn't want to make it any harder than it already was.

He crossed his arms impatiently. The EMT's had the gurney right up against the door to the deli. One of them knocked, and then they disappeared inside. Seconds later they were back out, racing with the gurney down the sidewalk towards the waiting ambulance.

Steve stood up straight, dropping his hands to his sides. His mouth went dry and his heart pounded in his chest. He could see Danny on the gurney—he was completely limp. His head lolled to the side. His mouth hung slightly open. His shirt crusted in blood. There was no discernable rise and fall to his chest. Steve couldn't breathe, couldn't even blink—his eyes were locked on his partner's body.

Steve's hands clenched into fists as one of the paramedics pressed the bell of his stethoscope to Danny's chest. The medic shook his head, swiftly placing his gloved fingers to Danny's neck.

In that moment, Steve was sure Danny must be dead. His knees buckled and he stumbled back against the ambulance, catching himself on the bumper. Stunned, he dropped his head to his hands and thought of Grace. How he was going to have to tell her that her Danno was never coming home.

Steve barely registered the man in scrubs who jumped from the back of the ambulance, a stethoscope swinging from his neck.

"What have we got?" the man called out, leaning down intently over Danny as the medics brought the gurney to a stop several feet from the ambulance.

"Pulse is weak and thready, but he's not breathing," one of the EMT's answered, reaching into his kit for an ambu bag.

Steve's heart thudded in his chest. He raised his head. He'd been wrong. Danny had stopped breathing, but he was clinging to life with everything he had. His heart was still beating.

"Breathe, Danny," Steve whispered as he watched one of the paramedics place the ambu bag over Danny's mouth and nose, forcing air into his lungs.

Heart in his throat, Steve watched as the three men worked furiously over his partner. It didn't take Steve long to figure out that the man who'd come out of the ambulance had to be a doctor—he was issuing commands with a terse authority which the paramedics obeyed instantly. Within minutes they'd wrapped pressure bandages over the bullet wound, inserted multiple IV's, placed a portable heart monitor between Danny's legs and attached the cardiac leads to his chest and wrapped a blood pressure cuff around his upper arm.

"BP's bottoming out," the paramedic taking Danny's vitals announced.

"Get that dopamine on board _now_ ," the doctor commanded.

"Just breathe, Danny," Steve found himself begging.

"Still nothing," called out the medic working the ambu bag.

"Come on, partner, come on. Breathe, Danny, breathe," Steve chanted. "You can do it. Come on."

"Continue rescue breathing," the doctor ordered. He began squeezing the IV bags, forcing the fluids into Danny as fast he could make them go.

"I've got breath sounds," the first paramedic called out triumphantly. He set the ambu bag aside, and then plunked a portable oxygen tank next to the heart monitor between Danny's legs.

"Put him on one hundred percent O2," the doctor ordered as the paramedic unwound the tubing and placed the mask over Danny's nose and mouth.

"BP's coming up. Eighty over sixty," the second paramedic shouted out.

"Start another liter of saline and let's get him in the bus," the doctor ordered.

Steve pulled himself up from the bumper, stumbling slightly as he moved to get out of their way as the paramedics and the doctor loaded the gurney into the ambulance and then hopped inside.

"He's my partner," Steve said hoarsely, grasping the edge of the door. "I'm coming with you." It wasn't so much of an order as it was a desperate plea.

"Climb in," the doctor nodded curtly.

Steve hove himself into the back of the ambulance. Someone slammed the door shut from outside and then the ambulance was lurching forward. The doctor was issuing vitals and orders by radio in language Steve only half understood.

Steve crouched down at the bottom of the gurney. He reached over and grasped Danny's ankle, not letting go as the ambulance careened through the streets, sirens blaring.

"Hang in there, Danno," Steve murmured fervently. "Keep fighting, buddy. Don't give up. Don't give up."

The ambulance screeched to a halt—its doors pulled open from the outside. The gurney was yanked out, its wheels hitting the ground with a clatter. Steve spun backwards, turning his long legs towards the door. The paramedics and doctor spilled out of the ambulance and within seconds a throng of medical personnel had swarmed Danny's gurney, hurtling it inside and out of sight.

Steve took a deep breath. His legs were like jelly. He heaved himself out of the ambulance, his stagger quickly morphing into a slow jog as he got his feet under him.

But he wasn't fast enough, and the doors to the inner sanctum slammed shut in his face.

He stumbled backward, staring at the closed doors until a nurse finally directed him to a hard plastic chair. There was nothing for him to do now but wait.


	6. Chapter 6

"Commander McGarrett?"

A pair of white sneakers moved into Steve's line of vision, and a hot paper cup was nudged between his hands.

Steve took the cup and looked up. A woman in blue scrubs sat down next to him. Sandy blond hair had been shoved into a loose knot at the nape of her neck. Her face was worn and creased by wrinkles at her eyes and mouth. Her hazel eyes were tired but kind.

Steve smiled and slightly lifted the cup in thanks.

"You looked like you could use it," the woman said, folding her hands in her lap. "Don't worry. It's the good stuff. Came straight from the break room, not the machine down the hall."

Steve slightly chuckled and took a long drink. "It's good," he tiredly nodded. "Thank you."

"I'm Dr. Ellen Lambert," the woman introduced herself. "I was the surgeon on call when your partner, Detective Williams, was brought in."

"How is Danny?" Steve's nerves jangled in his stomach and he settled the cup against his leg.

"That's what I came out here to talk to you about," Ellen leaned forward, resting her elbows on her knees. "He's in critical condition. We're prepping a bed in the ICU for him and he'll be moved there shortly."

"You're not taking him directly to surgery?" Steve asked in surprise.

"Not yet," Ellen shook her head. "When Danny was brought in, he was in severe hemorrhagic shock. We're administering blood products, fluids and medications to counteract that. We've packed the shoulder wound and when he's more stable, we'll take him into surgery. The bullet is lodged in Danny's shoulder blade, but the X-Rays show a chip and not a fracture. It may not seem like it now, but he got lucky. The bullet missed the brachial artery entirely, hitting several smaller arteries instead. It's the only reason he's still alive."

"When they brought him out," Steve hesitated. "He wasn't breathing."

"So Dr. Monroe said," Ellen nodded. "As of now, he's breathing on his own, but if he's unable to maintain good oxygenation levels in his blood, we're going to have to intubate. We'll be monitoring him very closely."

"Do you know…" Steve blew out a quick breath, briefly closing his eyes. He shook his head, trying to pull himself together. "Do you know when he'll wake up?"

"It's hard to say," Ellen sighed. "Danny's extremely weak right now, but as his vitals improve, he might come around for a minute or two."

"Can I see him?" Steve glanced at the doctor.

Ellen nodded. "He's in Trauma One. You can sit with him until he's moved to the ICU. Then give us about a half hour to get him settled and you can go back in."

"Thanks, Doc," Steve held out a hand. "And thank Dr. Monroe for treating Danny on scene."

"You don't have to thank us," Ellen said. "Ever since the news broke, all we wanted to do was help. Larry had just gotten off shift, so he ran down there, hoping he could be of assistance the second you got Danny out. There were a lot people praying for him. They're still praying for him…and everyone else inside that deli. Larry's already gone back. In case anyone else gets hurt."

Steve stared at the doctor in silence, his eyes watering. "I don't…" He paused and cleared his throat. "I don't know what to say. Thank you doesn't seem like enough."

"We take it very personally around here when one of our boys, or girls, falls in the line of duty," Ellen smiled sadly. She looked over at Steve, her eyes somber. "Look, I don't want to sugarcoat this, Commander. Danny's condition is precarious. Despite everything we're doing to save him, he might not make it. If he has family, you should get them here."

"His parents…" Steve swallowed hard, his heart hammering in his chest. "His parents are in Jersey. I've called them, but…" His mouth went dry and he felt the doctor place her hand over his and squeeze lightly.

Steve swallowed again and continued, "The entire Eastern seaboard is socked in by a blizzard. No flights in or out." He shook his head. This wasn't happening. This couldn't be happening. Danny couldn't die. Not like this.

"No. He's got to be okay," Steve stammered faintly. "Danny's a fighter."

"Yes he is," Ellen nodded. "It's why he's hung on this long. Come on," she stood up. "I'll take you to him. He needs his friends and family at his side now."

Steve nodded dumbly, standing up on wobbly legs. He followed the doctor down several hallways until they finally stopped outside the double doors of a trauma room. Ellen glanced back at him and then pushed the doors open.

The gurney was positioned in the center of the room, directly underneath a set of large bright lights. The floor was littered with the remains of plastic packaging and bandages soiled red. Monitoring equipment and IV poles ringed the head of the gurney. A nurse sat quietly in the far corner of the room making notes in a chart. She looked up and smiled at Steve and then returned to what she was doing.

"I have some other patients to attend to," Ellen briefly touched Steve's shoulder. "I'll check in on him later."

Steve stepped further into the room. He swallowed hard, trying to contain his shock. Reminding himself that all the invasive tubes and wires and monitoring devices had a purpose: to save Danny's life.

Danny was flat on his back, not even a pillow under his head. He was covered to the waist by a light sheet. A blue hospital gown had been loosely draped across his chest. An oxygen mask covered his face. His left shoulder was swathed in bandages, his arm secured in a loose sling across his abdomen.

Steve counted no less than four IV's, two of which were blood transfusions. One into the back of each hand and two more that fed into a central line that disappeared under a small bandage on his upper right chest.

The blood pressure cuff wrapped around Danny's right bicep inflated every fifteen minutes, each new reading replacing the old on the monitor above Danny's gurney. The pulse ox clipped to Danny's right index finger transmitted a constant reading of his oxygen levels to the same monitor. Biting his lip, Steve studied the numbers displayed on the screen. He had just enough medical training to know that Danny's heart rate was too fast, his blood pressure was too low and that his oxygen levels were borderline passable. Danny was hanging on, but barely.

He tore his eyes from the monitor and glanced down at his partner. Danny's eyes were closed. His face pale. His hair spiky and tousled.

"Hey Danno," Steve said, his voice shaky as he approached the gurney and bent down over the rails.

Steve rested the palm of one hand on Danny's forehead. It was cool and clammy. Small droplets of sweat glistened on his neck. His chest rose and fell in jerky motion, his breathing fast and shallow.

Steve's stomach clenched and he gripped the metal bedrail with his free hand. He breathed deeply until he felt himself steady. Danny was a stubborn son of a bitch. He was a fighter. His partner was not going to give up. Danny was going to come through this. He had to.

"Hang in there, Danny," Steve said, settling his hand on top of Danny's head and gently stroking Danny's brow with his thumb. "You're going to be okay. You hear me? You're going to be okay."

Steve remained that way, whispering encouragement in his partner's ear, until it was time to take Danny upstairs to the ICU.

**\- H 5-0 -**

Rachel sat in the rocking chair and gently stroked her belly. She aimed the remote control at the DVR and pressed the rewind button. Events played out backwards until she got to the point she wanted. She hit play, set down the remote and raised her fingers to her lips.

She'd lost track of how many times she'd watched it, rocking back and forth in her chair. An enterprising camera man had gotten close enough to shoot footage of the paramedics bringing Danny out of the deli. Now it was airing on every local news channel. Between the three men working on him, and the variety of medical paraphernalia that covered his body she could only tell it was Danny by the shock of blond hair at the top of the gurney.

But it was all she had. And so she watched it over and over, using it to reassure herself that Danny was still alive. She watched until the sun began its final descent in the horizon, and her bedroom started to fall into shadow. Then Steve had finally called. He'd reassured her that Danny was still alive, that the doctors were taking care of him, and he would call again when he knew more.

Grace was in the backyard with Stan and the dog. They hadn't pressed the issue of bedtime, and had already agreed they'd keep her out of school the next day. Eventually Grace would lose her battle with exhaustion but until then, Stan was doing everything he could to keep the little girl occupied. Keep her mind off the battle her father was fighting for his life.

Rachel sighed, flipping the channel to a twenty four hour local news affiliate. She knew Steve would update her with more information than a local news station could ever hope to obtain. Yet she couldn't keep herself from watching.

 _Local detective shot in hostage crisis_ flared in red across the bottom of the screen. A news reporter stood outside Hawaii Medical Center.

 _"A member of the Governor's task force on crime is fighting for his life tonight,"_ the reporter said. _"A source inside the hospital tells us that Detective Danny Williams is in critical condition in the ICU. As we've been reporting all afternoon and into the evening, Detective Williams was shot by an assailant we've come to identify as Robert "Bobby" Linton. He took the detective hostage along with fellow task force member Officer Lori Weston and Alana Wong, who was working at the deli when the violence broke out. At this time, Office Weston and Alana Wong are still trapped inside."_

The TV flicked off and a light flicked on. Rachel looked up, startled.

"You're going to drive yourself crazy watching this," Stan said softly, walking into the room and handing his wife a cup of tea. "It's not good for you, and it's not good for the baby."

"Where's Grace?" Rachel asked, taking the tea.

"In her room. With the dog," Stan half smiled. "I hope you don't mind. That dog seems to be the only thing that can calm her down right now."

"No, that's fine," Rachel sighed. She shifted in her chair, stretching her aching back.

Stan sat down on the edge of the bed. "Any word from Steve?"

"Not since he called earlier," Rachel said, sipping the tea.

"You want to go down there," Stan said, fidgeting restlessly with the bedspread.

"No," Rachel said faintly. "Grace needs me here."

"I know you still love him," Stan said. His voice didn't hold any recrimination. He glanced over at his wife.

Rachel bit her lip, folding her arms over her stomach. Her eyes welled with tears.

"You would have left me, if not for that baby," Stan sighed. "I tried to tell myself we could make this work."

"Stan," Rachel looked at her husband, tears spilling down her cheeks.

Stan rubbed his forehead, pinching his brow. "We don't even sleep in the same bedroom anymore, Rachel."

"What are you saying, Stan?" Rachel's hands trembled as she set down the tea cup.

"I never wanted to trap you into staying with me. I want a wife…" he paused, running a hand over his mouth, "I deserve a wife who is with me because she loves me." Stan stood up. He gazed at Rachel, his eyes full of sadness and hurt. "I'll stay here until the baby is born. You can have the house. I…I'll start looking for my own place." He moved to the doorway and then paused.

He glanced back. Rachel was softly crying, one hand rubbing her belly.

"If you want to go to him, I'll watch Grace," Stan said quietly.

"Stan," Rachel said, glancing up. But there was only an empty space in the doorway. As tears streamed down her face, Rachel hugged her stomach and tried to figure out how she'd made such a mess of her life.

**\- H 5-0 -**

Steve sat at Danny's side. The nurses had closed the ICU cubicle door and the room was eerily quiet. The only sounds were Danny's ragged breathing and the beeps and whirrs of various monitors.

Chin and Kono were still at the command post outside the deli. They'd stay until Lori and Alana were safely out. He'd called to update them on Danny's condition, just before he'd called Rachel.

He knew Danny still loved his ex wife. Any idiot could see it. Steve hated seeing his best friend caught up in Rachel's drama. She'd hurt him so much, he just didn't know if his partner could ever move on.

A sudden cough drew his attention. He glanced up to find Danny blinking at him, his blue eyes foggy with confusion and pain.

"Danny," Steve leaned forward and smiled. He placed his hand gently on Danny's forearm. "How are you feeling?"

"Where?" Danny whispered hoarsely. He blinked again, trying to focus his eyes.

"You're in the hospital," Steve explained. "Just take it easy."

Danny squeezed his eyes shut. He coughed again and then frowned, letting out a small moan of pain. The oxygen mask covering his nose and mouth fogged up. Eventually the tension on his face eased and he lay quiet, his eyes still closed.

For a moment, Steve thought Danny had drifted off again, but then Danny turned his head slightly on the pillow, licked his lips and forced his eyes open.

"Lori?" Danny rasped.

"She's still in there," Steve said softly.

"Have to…get her out," Danny gritted his teeth, his mouth set in a thin line as he stared purposely at his partner.

"We're working on it, Danno," Steve squeezed Danny's forearm. "We'll get her out. You just focus on getting better."

Danny nodded, shifting restlessly, as if trying to escape the pain, but the movement only made it worse and his face pinched tightly. He let out another low moan.

Steve set a gentle hand on Danny's good shoulder. "Try not to move. I'll call the nurse—get you something for the pain."

Danny blinked heavily, struggling to keep his eyes open.

"It's okay, Danny," Steve soothed, catching his partner's eye. "Just rest, okay?"

"Grace?" Danny whispered, stubbornly holding Steve's gaze.

"She's fine," Steve smiled, resting his hand on the top of Danny's head. "She really wants to see you—we'll bring her by when you're feeling a little more up to it."

"'M tired," Danny sighed, his eyes finally drooping closed. He murmured something else, but Steve couldn't understand it. Within moments Danny had fallen back to sleep.

Worry tugged at Steve's gut. To his untrained eye, Danny didn't appear to be getting any stronger. If anything, he seemed to be getting weaker.

The door to the ICU opened and Steve glanced over expecting to see a nurse. Instead his eyes met Rachel's. She read his fear like an open book. Her hand flew to her mouth.

She backed out of the room and Steve followed, closing the door behind him. Rachel's back was to him, her body trembling.

Tentatively he approached her.

"Is he dying, Steven?" Rachel whispered plaintively. She whirled around, devastation plain on her face. "Oh god, is he dying?"

"No," Steve shook his head. He crossed his arms and glanced stubbornly towards Danny's cubicle. "He is absolutely not dying. I'm not gonna let him."

"Oh god…" Rachel shuddered, tears slowly falling down her cheeks.

Steve wrapped his arms around Rachel's shoulders and she collapsed against his chest.

"What are we going to do if he dies?" Rachel sobbed, her voice heartbroken.

Steve mutely shook his head. It couldn't come to that. It just couldn't. Because he honestly had no idea what he was going to do if he lost the best friend he'd ever had.


	7. Chapter 7

Lori glanced over at Alana. The girl was sitting in a chair, her arms wrapped around knees she'd pulled to her chest. She was staring at the floor. As the deli grew dark, the girl had practically melted into the shadows. She was barely discernible in the gloom. Alana had hardly said a word since this ordeal had begun. She seemed to sink further and further into herself the longer it went on.

The first time Charlie and Bobby had talked, their conversation had been stilted and slow. Charlie told Bobby he was guilty, that there was no one who could clear his name. Charlie had then ordered his little brother to end his temper tantrum and come out. Bobby hung up on him.

Afterwards, Bobby had been angry and agitated, so Lori had commiserated with him about the irritating self righteousness of older siblings. She'd trashed her beauty queen sister. Bobby trashed Charlie. Ten minutes in, Bobby began to feel guilty about it. And when April called back, he grudgingly agreed to talk to Charlie again.

That conversation had lasted for an hour, and it left both Bobby and Charlie in tears. Now Bobby was sitting quietly in the dark, staring down at the gun in his hand. April had tried calling, but he'd refused to pick up the phone.

Finally Bobby looked up and said, "You can both go."

Alana sat straight up, her arms and legs quivering with tension. She looked to Lori for direction.

"Go on, sweetheart," Lori nodded. "It's okay. When you open the door, identify yourself immediately. Keep your arms up—you'll be okay."

Alana bolted for the door, only pausing once before unlocking and pushing it open and then stepping outside. She looked back at Lori and said, "Aren't you coming?"

"I'll be right behind you," Lori smiled. "Go on."

Like a shot, the girl disappeared outside. The door clanged shut and Lori glanced up at Bobby.

"Tell me what you're thinking about Bobby," Lori said softly.

"Everyone would have been better off if I'd never been born," Bobby said morosely, his eyes seemingly trapped by the gun in his hands. "I got on Dad's nerves. He told me that all the time, but I just…didn't know how to stop. Everything I did pissed him off. It just got worse after Charlie was gone. It's…it's my fault Dad took it out on Mom."

Eyes glistening with remorse he looked over at Lori and said, "I'm real sorry about your friend. Honest…I never meant to hurt him, and I really hope he's going to be okay. I should have…" Bobby sighed. "There are so many things I should have done…"

"Everyone makes mistakes, Bobby," Lori said. "It takes a real man to acknowledge his and apologize for them."

"That's not going to mean crap to your friend's kid, is it?" Bobby said bitterly, his fingers tightening around the gun.

"You're acting like he's already dead," Lori said softly. "I know Danny." She smiled fondly, "He'd deny it, quite loudly I'd imagine, but he's the biggest teddy bear. He's got a core of steel, though. He's one of the strongest men I've ever known. He's going to come through this. I know it."

"You should go. When you see him," Bobby said. "Tell him I'm sorry."

"I will," Lori nodded. "But we're going to walk out of here together first, and then you can tell him yourself. It'll mean more that way."

Bobby sighed. He rested his forehead against the muzzle of the gun. "Sometimes I think today has just been a bad dream. I'll wake up, and I won't be here. Problem is…I can't seem to wake up."

"Bobby, things _are_ going to get better. Come with me and I'll make sure you get the help you need."

"I keep seeing my father. He's laughing at me. And I'm so angry. So angry," Bobby's voice dropped to a whisper. "Sometimes, I think I might have shot him. All I can remember is that I wanted to make him stop laughing at me. Then I think I hear a bang… and then he stopped. And I think to myself…I finally made him listen."

Bobby rubbed the muzzle of the gun against his temple. He closed his eyes, his lips moving silently.

"Bobby," Lori called softly, cautiously standing and moving towards the teenager. "Give me the gun. Just give me the gun, Bobby and we can walk out of here together."

"No," Bobby murmured, slowly shaking his head. "My life is over. It's over."

"It's easy for me to stand here and say it's not over, Bobby. And I'm not going to lie. You'll be arrested and you'll face the consequences of your actions today, but what that gives you is a chance to start over, pay for your wrongs and clean the slate." Lori continued to inch forward. She forced her body to remain relaxed so the boy wouldn't see her as a threat.

Bobby sighed, turning his head to glance over at Lori.

She continued talking. "Look at Charlie. Look at your brother. He made a mistake. He owned it. You've relied on his strength before. Rely on it again. He will help you through this. He'll show you the way if you give him the chance." Lori knelt down in front of Bobby, gently placed one hand on his knee. "He loves you. Don't make him lose you like this. Think about him if you don't care about yourself."

"I'm tired, Lori," Bobby closed his eyes and dropped his head. "I'm so tired."

"I know you are, Bobby," Lori warily reached up and touched Bobby's wrist. "You're too tired to make a decision that would end your life."

"I want to see my mom," Bobby whispered pleadingly, his hand dropping to his lap in exhaustion.

"I think we can arrange that, Bobby," Lori nodded. Gently she placed her hand over Bobby's and slid the gun from his lax fingers. She wedged it into the small of her back in the waistband of her jeans.

Bobby's fingers closed over hers, he slid from the table, and together they walked out of the deli into the cool night air.

**\- H 5-0 -**

It was strange, Danny thought, to feel both light and heavy at the same time. But as odd as it was, that was how he felt. It was like his mind and body had become two separate things, like he was a balloon bound by a thread to the hand holding it. If the thread snapped, or the hand let go, he wondered if he'd simply float away.

All his senses had gone dumb. It was like he'd gotten lost in a fog—vision reduced to wisps of cloud, hearing muted, cut off from a sense of time or place. Nothing mattered here. There was no fear. No pain. It was peaceful and quiet.

In some part of his mind, Danny understood that this wasn't life. Life was hard. Bright and vibrant colors offset by darkness and pain. Truth be told, Danny wasn't sure he wanted to go back. It would be so easy to let go. And then just like that, the weight bearing down on him lifted. The thread snapped. Free and unfettered, he drifted away.

**\- H 5-0 -**

Steve leaned forward in his chair, resting his elbows on his knees. He steepled his fingers under his chin and closed his eyes. The nurses had shut the door to give him some privacy. Rachel had gone back home. Chin, Kono and Lori were on their way over, but for the moment he was alone. To be honest, he needed the moment. Needed the time to pull himself together.

The heart monitor was dark and silent now; there was empty space where Danny's bed had been.

The door to the cubicle flew open. Lori stood framed in the doorway. Her hair was disheveled. There was blood on her shirt, the cuffs of her sleeves, on her pants. Her hand flew to her mouth and her eyes went wide with panic. Her body began to shake and tremble as she took in the empty room.

"No!" She let out a strangled gasp.

Steve leapt out of the chair, caught her just before she fell to the floor.

"He's not dead, Lori," Steve gripped her arms, stared her in the eye. "He's not dead. Do you hear me?"

She nodded and inhaled a sob. Steve hauled her to her feet and moved her to the chair. She sank into it, covering her face with her hands. She gulped in air, struggling to regain her composure.

Steve knelt next to her, one hand lightly on her knee until she finally raised her head and caught his eye.

"Danny's in surgery," Steve explained quietly. "They took him down about ten minutes ago."

"How is he?" Lori asked, rubbing her forehead.

"He's pretty weak," Steve admitted with a sigh, "But the doctors didn't want to wait any longer."

"How long do they think it'll take?" Lori asked.

"Might be a couple hours," Steve pulled himself to his feet and moved to lean against the wall. "You should go home, take a shower, get some rest."

Lori shook her head. "No. Not until I know Danny is going to be all right."

"Thing is, Lori," Steve studied the young profiler. "It could be a while before we know that. You can't do anything while he's in surgery. He'll be in Recovery for at least another hour after that. The ICU staff is making an exception for us and has agreed to let one of us be in the room with him at all times." He crossed his arms over his chest and gazed steadfastly down at her. "And I get first watch."

Lori swiped her eyes with her hands and nodded, sighing shakily.

"If however, you do what I say," Steve cocked his head at her. "You get second watch. Which will commence exactly ten hours from now."

"What?" Lori raised her head, her eyes sparking in protest. "Ten hours?"

"That's enough time to get home, take a shower, get something to eat, and still get a full eight hours of sleep." He raised one hand to halt any further objections. "You went through hell today, Lori. You need time to decompress."

Lori's face twisted as she forced back tears. She heaved in a breath and clenched her hands into fists.

"You're not doing yourself any favors by holding that back," Steve's eyes softened.

"I don't want to cry," Lori said fiercely, angrily swiping the tears from her cheeks. She shook her head. "Just because I'm a girl doesn't mean I have to cry."

"It's not a sign of weakness, Lori," Chin's voice sounded from the door. He gazed compassionately at his teammate.

"He should know, he cries all the time," Kono teased lightly, though her face and eyes were strained by worry. She jerked a thumb at her cousin. "You should have seen him when he saw _Titanic_. He _lost_ it."

Lori looked up at her teammates and started to laugh. And laugh. She laughed so hard that tears streamed down her face. Kono bent down, putting her arms around the other woman's slender shoulders.

"Thank you for taking care of Danny today," Kono whispered, her eyes filling with tears. "You saved his life. I'll never forget it."

Between Kono's words and the support of her team, the final barrier holding Lori together came crashing down. She buried her face in Kono's shoulder and sobbed. Eventually the sobs gave way to dry heaves. As Kono gently stroked her hair, the dry heaves gave way to a sense of calm.

"Feel better?" Chin knowingly arched an eyebrow at her.

Lori nodded, exhaustion sweeping over her.

"Time to go home," Chin said, holding out a hand to help Lori up.

Lori nodded again, her gaze sweeping from Steve's face to Kono's and back to Chin's. She smiled.

"You know, I was so mad when the Governor handed me over to 5-0," Lori bit her lip. "It took me a little while to get over it."

"I remember," Steve teased, flashing her a friendly smile, "Something about taking on a babysitting job, right?"

"I didn't know then, that it would be the best thing that ever happened to me," Lori shyly shoved her hands into her pockets.

"It's because you didn't just join a team," Kono said.

"You joined a family," Chin finished, gently squeezing Lori's hand.

"I joined a family," Lori nodded, her eyes glistening with tears.

"Come on," Chin slipped his arm around her shoulders and began steering her towards the door. "Let's get you home."

Several hours after Chin drove Lori home and Kono finally went to get some rest as well, Danny was rolled back into his cubicle in the ICU. A nurse walked at the head of the bed squeezing an ambu bag attached to a tube down his throat. Steve jumped out of the way as the medical staff reattached all of Danny's wires and leads to the monitors in the room and locked the wheels on the bed.

Steve's stomach twisted as he watched a man in scrubs hook Danny up to the ventilator, flipping switches and setting controls on the machine.

He looked up as Dr. Lambert entered and began to quietly confer with one of the nurses. When she was done, she walked over to Steve and motioned him to join her in the hallway outside of the cubicle.

"How's Danny? How was the surgery?" Steve asked anxiously.

Ellen smiled. "Danny was a champ in surgery—he held up really well. We got the bullet out, repaired the damage to the arteries as well as some damage to the muscle. Barring complications, with physical therapy, I expect that he'll regain full range of motion in his shoulder."

Steve glanced through the cubicle window at his partner. A nurse was injecting a syringe of medication into one of Danny's IV's.

"Shouldn't he be off the vent already?" Steve glanced back at Ellen worriedly.

"Normally, yes," Ellen sighed. Tiredly she leaned against the wall. "The surgery took a lot out of him. He's just not able to maintain the oxygenation levels in his blood right now without the support of the vent."

Steve shoved his hands into his pockets and looked down at the floor. Taking a deep breath, he steeled himself, looked back up at Danny's doctor and asked, "What are his odds, Doc? Is he going to make it?"

Ellen rested a hand on her hip and looked at Steve sympathetically. "Statistically speaking, patients in Danny's condition have a high morbidity rate. He's facing an uphill battle right now, and he has some big hurdles standing in his way. The first one is a primary infection in the bullet wound. It looked pretty clean, all things considered, but the nursing staff will be keeping a close eye on it. We've already put him on a course of antibiotics so with any luck, we can stop that before it starts."

"My biggest concern is sepsis and organ failure. These are common complications of hemorrhagic shock and are most often the cause of death," Ellen continued quietly. "We'll keep him in the ICU where we can monitor his condition very closely until I'm sure he's out of danger."

"How long before we know?" Steve asked raggedly, his gut churning.

Ellen let out a long breath. She glanced at her patient through the window and then looked back at Steve and said somberly. "Unfortunately, it's hard for me to give you a definitive answer—we're in something of a waiting game. Symptoms can begin appearing up to a week after the initial trauma, and if they do appear, patients tend to go downhill very fast."

Steve sagged against the wall and closed his eyes.

"I know things look bleak right now, but you can't give up hope," Ellen placed her hand on Steve's arm and squeezed it slightly. "We're doing everything in our power to give Danny's body the support and strength it needs to fight this."

"Thanks, Doc," Steve said faintly.

"You can go back in," Ellen said kindly. "If you have any further questions, don't hesitate to ask."

Steve nodded, rubbing his aching forehead with a shaky hand.

Ellen walked away, speaking to Danny's nurse one more time before leaving the ICU. Steve slowly pulled himself off the wall and walked back into Danny's cubicle.

He dragged the chair closer to the bed and sat down. He gazed at his best friend. Danny looked terrible. His face was lax. His lips hung slightly open around the tube that snaked down his throat; his teeth loosely rested against a plastic guard that kept him from biting down on the tube. Long strips of tape secured the tube to his face. Danny's eyelids didn't so much as flicker and not a single muscle even twitched. He was as pale as the white sheets on the bed.

If Steve hadn't seen the shallow rise and fall of Danny's chest, or heard the beat of the heart monitor, he would have thought Danny was dead. Right now, he bore more of a resemblance to a corpse than he did to the living and it was all Steve could do not to give in to despair.

Steve sprawled in the chair and rested his head on his hand. Overwhelmed and exhausted, he closed his eyes, finally falling asleep to the comforting sound of the beat of Danny's heart.


	8. Chapter 8

Danny wasn't sure exactly where he was. Or how he got there. And he sure as hell didn't know how to get back. He was floating. Drifting aimlessly. Mired in a hazy fog that surrounded his body and muddled his mind. There was a constant buzzing in his ears. Somehow he knew it was the sound of voices, but it was like listening to static. A radio that hadn't been tuned to the right station. The high pitched noise drowned out the words.

A part of him, a very small part, wondered if he should be concerned. Wondered if he should try to find out where he was. It occurred to him he might be dead. That maybe he would drift in this void for eternity. Maybe it had already been an eternity. How would he know?

It wasn't like he'd expected to find the Pearly Gates, St. Peter or the River Styx. He'd always been a see it to believe it type of a guy. If anything he figured when his number was up, that would be it: the end, sayonara baby, hello darkness my old friend. He'd never considered that death would leave him hovering in some strange sense of limbo.

He didn't know how long it took him to realize that the voices were important. There were familiar strains in the white noise. They dredged up images and memories. They awoke emotion and longing. He found himself straining to listen. To hear. To understand. Steve was telling him to fight and Grace was crying.

He wasn't dead. Not yet. But there was a thin line between this world and the next. Between the light and the dark. He could feel it now. The sense of time came back in a rush, and he knew his was running out.

He latched on to the voices. And as if they were the North Star, he used them to find his way home.

**-H5-0-**

Steve tightened his arms around Grace's waist as she nestled her cheek against his shoulder. Danny's daughter was tense in his arms, her big dark eyes trained on her father's face. They'd been sitting with Danny for almost an hour, and Rachel was due back soon to pick her up and take her home. Grace hadn't said much. Rachel said Grace hadn't said much of anything since finding out Danny had been shot.

The doctors hadn't said it, but Danny was getting weaker. He was still on a respirator, and early that morning he'd begun running a slight fever. Dr. Lambert had immediately ordered a battery of blood tests and cultures, and though she'd told Steve it was too early to worry, that the fever could just as easily be a side effect of the antibiotics as it was a sign of a growing infection in Danny's body, he worried just the same. He couldn't help but think that despite everything the doctors were doing, Danny was drifting further and further away from them.

"You doing okay, Gracie?" Steve asked softly, pulling himself from his own thoughts and gently rubbing the little girl's arm.

He felt her nod her head against his shoulder.

"What'd you do in school today?" Steve asked, his own gaze never straying from his partner.

He felt Grace shrug, her thin shoulders bumping against his chest.

"Do you know what I loved most about fifth grade?" Steve said, slowly rubbing small circles on Grace's back. When she didn't answer, he continued. "I loved recess. I liked to play kickball. Do you like recess, Gracie?"

"Mm..hmmm," the little girl nodded.

"What do you like most about recess?" Steve gently pushed for an actual verbal response.

Grace sighed, wriggling slightly on Steve's lap. "The monkey bars," she finally murmured.

"Did you play on them today?" Steve asked, realizing he'd never asked Danny where the nickname he used for Grace came from. He wondered if the girl's love of jungle gyms had something to do with it.

Grace shook her head. "I didn't feel good. Miss Dunlap let me stay inside and read."

"You didn't feel good, huh?" Steve sighed and kissed the top of her head. "What was wrong?"

"My tummy hurt," Grace murmured.

"I'm sorry sweetie," Steve continued to rub the little girl's back. He glanced down at her. "Do you feel better now?"

Grace shrugged and sniffled. She turned her dark eyes up at Steve and asked plaintively, "Why won't Danno wake up?"

Steve shifted, continuing to comfortingly stroke Grace's back. "You remember how I told you that the tube in Danny's throat has been helping him to breathe?"

Grace nodded, her eyes shifting back towards her father.

"Well, that tube feels pretty bad," Steve explained. "So the doctors have been giving your dad medicine to help keep him really sleepy, and when he's strong enough to not need the tube anymore, they'll let him wake up."

Grace wrapped both arms around Steve's neck and pulled herself up. Clinging to him, her voice quivering, she whispered in his ear, "Why do people have to die, Uncle Steve?"

"I don't know, Gracie," Steve murmured a reply, dipping his chin into the hollow of Grace's neck. He could feel her pulse racing, her little body trembling with emotion.

Steve couldn't help but remember the night his mother had died. He'd only been a little older than Grace. He remembered the confusion and the anger and the sadness, and he knew if the worst happened, and Danny died, that Grace would be forever marked by that loss, just as he was.

"It's not fair," Grace sobbed fiercely. She pressed herself against Steve's chest, her hot tears falling on his shoulder. "It's not fair."

"No, it's not," Steve agreed calmly. "But you know what?" He tried to pry Grace away from him, but she only clung to him more tightly. "Grace? Look at me." He wedged his fingers around her arms. "Look at me Grace."

Finally Grace pulled back. She looked up at Steve, her cheeks tear stained, her eyes watery.

"Your dad needs us to be strong for him, you understand?" Steve gazed seriously down at the little girl. "As long as he's fighting, we can't give up hope. You know he'd do the same for us."

"I'm scared, Uncle Steve," Grace whispered, her lips trembling.

"I know, Gracie," Steve gently swiped his thumb across her wet cheeks. "I'm scared too." Steve sighed and glanced over her shoulder at his partner.

"Danno says you're not scared of anything," Grace stared at Steve in wonder.

"It's okay to be scared, Grace, you just can't let it stop you," Steve squeezed her shoulder. "That's what bravery is, and your dad's one of the bravest men I've ever known. But," Steve smiled down at her, "maybe when your dad's all better, we can just keep that our little secret."

Grace smiled slightly and nodded.

"You know what else?" Steve asked, arching an eyebrow at her. "You're the bravest little girl I know." He returned to rubbing gentle circles on her back and glanced towards Danny's bed. "I know it's hard to see your dad like this. It would be easier not to come, not to face it."

Grace bit her lip and settled her head against Steve's shoulder, her eyes on her father. "I don't want him to die, Uncle Steve."

"I know, baby," Steve sighed. "I don't either. I'm sorry this happened, Gracie. If there was anything I could have done to stop it…"

"What could you have done, Steven?" Rachel asked quietly. She stood in the doorway, one hand over her stomach. She stared at the still form of her ex-husband in the bed. "He walked into a deli to buy a sandwich. No one could have expected what came next."

"Mommy," Grace slid from Steve's lap and ran to her mother, wrapping her arms around Rachel's wide stomach.

"Hello, sweetheart," Rachel ran her fingers through Grace's long hair. "Does your tummy feel better?"

Grace nodded.

"Do you think you could eat something now?" Rachel rubbed Grace's back.

Grace nodded again. Rachel reached down and took Grace's hand. "Let's say goodnight to your father. It's time for me to get you home."

Together, Rachel and Grace walked to Danny's bedside. Grace slipped her small fingers into Danny's hand. Rachel bent down, gently kissing Danny on the forehead.

"Good night, Danno," Grace said. "I love you." She glanced uncertainly back at Steve.

"Don't worry, Grace," Steve smiled. "I'll stay with him. Danno won't be alone."

"Can I come back tomorrow?" Grace asked softly.

"I'll bring you over after school, just like today," Rachel promised.

After giving her father's hand one last squeeze, Grace waved goodbye to Steve and followed her mom out of the room.

Steve stood up, his body rigid with tension and tried to curb the desire to put his fist through the wall.

**\- H50 -**

Lori shoved her hands deep into her pockets and lingered in the doorway of Danny's cubicle. "How's he doing?" she asked softly. Her angular face was wan and tired, her eyes sunken and red rimmed by tears.

"He's about the same, I think," Steve answered quietly, glancing over at her. He was leaning over Danny's bed, elbows resting on the bedrails, his fingers loosely curled around Danny's.

She nodded, slowly crossing over to the foot of Danny's bed.

"You don't look like you're sleeping very well," Steve observed, his eyes locking on hers.

Lori shrugged, shifting uncomfortably and looking down at the floor.

"It might help to talk to someone," Steve suggested.

"I'm fine," Lori shook her head. "I'll be fine. I just…I just really need to know Danny's okay, that's all."

Steve looked down at his best friend. Gently he stroked Danny's hand with his thumb.

When he'd first met the brash Jersey detective, he'd been an obstacle to get around. Guns drawn on each other in his father's garage, he'd recognized the steely resolve in Danny's eyes—knew the cop wasn't going to be backed down. Danny had forced his hand. Forced him to accept Jameson's offer. Forced him to stay in Hawaii when otherwise he would have gone.

Meeting Danny had changed everything. From the first Steve had felt a connection. A spark. Some sense of kinship that Steve didn't know exactly how to define or explain. Danny was more than a friend. More than a partner. He mattered—in such a way that the thought of losing him rocked Steve to his core.

He shuddered, his fingers tightening around Danny's hand.

"I need him to be okay, too," Steve said, his voice rough. "I hate feeling helpless. Danny's in the battle of his life and there's not _one damn thing_ I can do to help him. The nurses say talk to him. So I do. They say he can hear me, but… I don't know." He bowed his head and fell silent.

Lori's face crumpled, her eyes filling with tears.

" _All this_ …" Steve's eyes flattened to the color of gray steel. "All this because of a kid with a gun." He swung his head towards Lori, his eyes glittering with anger. "We're gonna get the bastard who put that gun in Bobby's hands, and then we'll put his supplier out of business."

Lori quickly swiped away her tears. "Bobby has already given us the name of the kid he bought the gun from. HPD is picking him up. We'll get them, Steve. We'll get all of them."

"Still not going to help Danny, is it?" Steve sighed and shook his head. He gave her a wry smile. "I gave Grace this big speech earlier about staying positive, about not giving up on Danny when he's fighting so hard, but I just don't know how much longer he can hold on like this. And I'm sorry," Steve pinched his nose between his thumb and forefinger. "I really shouldn't be dumping all this on you. Especially in front of Danny."

"I think maybe we're all just really tired and really scared," Lori said softly. She shifted uncomfortably, shoving her hands back into her pockets. She bit her lip and then admitted, "I can't sleep. I keep dreaming Danny died on the floor of that deli. I can see him lying there. His eyes are empty, lifeless, but he's staring at me. Asking me why I didn't save him."

"None of this was your fault, Lori," Steve said.

Lori nodded, scuffing her foot on the floor. She shrugged. "I just…need him to be okay."

"I know," Steve nodded. "Me too."

He turned back towards Danny and squeezed his hand. "Come on buddy. I know you're tired. Just don't give up on us. Okay?"

Steve closed his eyes. He felt completely drained. He was about to slip his hand from Danny's, let Lori sit with Danny for a while so he could take a much needed break, when he felt pressure on his fingers.

" _Danny?_ " Steve froze, afraid he was just imagining it.

But the pressure increased. It wasn't his imagination. Danny had a solid grip on Steve's fingers.

"Danny," Steve reached down with his free hand and squeezed Danny's shoulder. "That's it buddy. Keep fighting. You're gonna be fine."

Danny's eyes opened. Just barely. Only to slits. And within seconds they'd closed again. His hold on Steve's hand loosened.

"Steve?" Lori moved forward, placing her hand on the blanket over Danny's foot.

"He squeezed my hand. And he looked at me," Steve grinned. "It was just for a second."

"It's a good sign, right?" Lori smiled hopefully at Steve.

"Yeah," Steve nodded, glancing down at his partner. Lightly squeezing Danny's hand, he leaned down and said fervently, "You just hang on, Danno. You hear me? You hang on."


	9. Chapter 9

Steve sighed, squirming in the hard plastic chair. He slouched down, propping one foot across the opposite knee and resting his head on his hand. It was late, a little after two in the morning. The lights in the ICU cubicle had been turned down and the monitors muted so they wouldn't disturb Danny's rest. Steve had nodded off himself several times before awaking each time with a jerk, his eyes immediately darting towards Danny. He was propped on his right side, his left arm strapped securely in a sling, his body supported by nearly a dozen pillows. To Steve's eye, his partner still looked terrible. His skin was so pale it was nearly translucent. Underneath all the tubes, wires and monitoring equipment, he looked small and frail.

Dr. Lambert had taken Danny off the ventilator earlier that evening, replacing it with supplemental oxygen through a nasal cannula. Now they were waiting to see if he could maintain the right levels of oxygenation in his blood on his own, without the support of the vent. Every hour the ICU nurse drew a vial of blood from one of the ports in the central line in Danny's chest so they could monitor his progress. Dr. Lambert hadn't said it, but Steve knew they'd reached a crossroads and his mind hummed with the sense the next twelve hours would decide if Danny lived or died.

When they'd lifted the sedation, Danny had stirred for a few moments and then had promptly fallen back to sleep. He hadn't woken up since, and Steve didn't know if that was a good or a bad sign.

Steve glanced up as Kelly, Danny's night nurse, walked into the cubicle carrying a small instrument tray. She flashed him a sympathetic smile as she set the tray down on the bedside table. The short cut of her dark hair accentuated her large green eyes. She was slim, but wiry. A tattoo peeked out from under the short sleeve of her purple smock.

"How are you holding up?" Kelly whispered, glancing at Steve perceptively. "Those chairs are inhuman. I'm pretty sure we have an empty bed in our on call room if you'd like to take a little break."

"No…thanks though," Steve shook his head. "I don't want to leave Danny by himself." He looked over at the nurse as she prepped Danny's central line for the blood draw. "How's he doing?"

"He's holding his own," Kelly smiled reassuringly. "His numbers have dropped some since we took him off the vent, but we expected that. We're hoping to see him stabilize in the next twelve hours or so."

"And in the meantime, we just have to wait," Steve sighed, rubbing tiredly at his forehead.

"I'm afraid so," Kelly nodded, falling silent as she focused on her work.

Steve slumped back in his chair. Danny didn't so much as twitch as the nurse buzzed quietly around him, taking his vitals and listening to his heart and lungs.

"Hang in there, Commander," she said, smiling encouragingly, on her way out.

Steve closed his eyes, rested his head against the back of the chair, and seriously wondered how much more his frayed nerves could take. He'd just started to doze off again when a small moan brought him fully awake. He leaned forward, slipping his hand through the bedrail and placing it on Danny's forearm.

"Danny?" Steve gently squeezed Danny's arm. "You with me, buddy?"

Danny blinked up at him, blue eyes fuzzy with sleep and confusion. "Steve?" he asked muzzily.

"Yeah," Steve smiled softly.

"You're still here," Danny slurred drowsily, frowning in concentration as he tried to focus his eyes on his friend.

"Where else would I be?" Steve cocked his head curiously at his partner. "How are you feeling?"

Danny grimaced, swallowing painfully before he finally answered. "Kinda bad."

"I know," Steve nodded understandingly. "Just hang in there."

"Lori okay?" Danny whispered hoarsely, his brow furrowing with worry.

"She's fine," Steve assured him. "Everyone's fine."

"Tha's good," Danny murmured tiredly. He coughed slightly, his face pinching with pain. He licked his lips and glanced up at Steve. "She's a good addition…to the team."

"Yeah," Steve smiled. "I think we'll get along."

Danny opened his mouth to speak again, but coughed again instead. He closed his eyes clamping his mouth shut in a thin line.

"Easy, Danny," Steve soothed, slightly squeezing Danny's forearm before he reached over to the side table and picked up a cup of ice. "You were on a vent for a while and it did a number on your throat. You probably shouldn't try to talk much." He picked up a piece of ice and nudged it between Danny's lips.

Danny lay quietly as he let the ice melt in his mouth and trickle down his throat. But then he looked up at Steve, his blue eyes full of regret.

"I'm dying, aren't I?" Danny murmured softly.

"No," Steve said firmly, gripping Danny's arm. "God, no. Why would you say that?"

"I feel kinda strange," Danny sighed. He smiled slightly. "And you look…sad."

"I'm not sad, Daniel. I'm worried," Steve glowered at his partner. "You've spent the last four days scaring the crap out of me."

"Sorry. 'M just so tired," Danny whispered, struggling to maintain his focus on Steve's face.

"No, Danny, listen to me," Steve leaned rigidly against the rails of Danny's hospital bed, his fingers tightening around Danny's forearm like a claw. "You're _not_ dying! Do you hear me? You are not dying!"

"I need you… to take care of Grace," Danny said softly, his eyes solemn as he stared up at Steve.

"We are not having this conversation," Steve shook his head stubbornly. "You're going to be fine."

"I don't think I am," Danny sighed regretfully, his blue eyes glistening.

"If you're going to give up, then you look that sweet little girl in the face and you tell her yourself," Steve glared fiercely down at his best friend. "I'll call Rachel right now, and tell her to bring Grace over."

"That's low, Steven," Danny coughed and glanced at his partner with reproach.

"You're the one who's being a quitter, but I guess if that's how you want Gracie to remember you, it's your choice…" Steve said harshly.

Steve's face may have been cool and collected, but his heart was racing. He'd seen it before. Men so mortally wounded they simply didn't have a chance, no matter how hard they fought or how desperately they wanted to live. And in that moment when they finally accepted their death, something shifted in their eyes. And there was no turning back. He couldn't let Danny's eyes shift like that. He wouldn't.

"Is this what they taught you in SEAL school?" Danny sputtered, his eyes sparking with anger. "To be a cold hearted bastard?" Danny heaved a breath as he lifted his hand and poked Steve in the chest. "You think this is what I want? To die and leave Gracie without a father?"

"That's it," Steve grabbed Danny's hand and squeezed it hard. He stared intently into his partner's eyes. "This fight is not over, you understand? I am not letting you give up. So if you need to stay pissed at me to stay in the game, then stay pissed at me."

"Anyone ever tell you that you're a control freak Steven?" Danny sighed heavily. He curled his fingers loosely around Steve's.

"You. All the time," Steve smiled. "Now I need you to say it."

"Say what?" Danny blinked drowsily up at Steve.

"That you're not dying," Steve glowered impatiently at Danny. "Come on, say it."

"Fine, I'm not dying," Danny murmured, closing his eyes.

"Nu uh," Steve protested, leaning over the bed and gently patting Danny's cheek until he opened his eyes. "Say it like you mean it. Try again."

"Fine," Danny scowled. "I'm not dying."

Steve pursed his lips and thoughtfully stared down at Danny for a moment before finally shaking his head. "It lacks a certain level of commitment. I'm going to need you to do it again."

"It lacks a certain level of _commitment_?" Danny growled in disbelief, his blue eyes thunderous with aggravation.

"Yeah," Steve nodded, shrugging coolly. "I'm not feelin' it yet."

"You're gonna feel a punch in the face is what you're gonna feel," Danny promised, glaring murderously at Steve.

"Now _that_ , I believed," Steve smirked.

"You're such an asshole," Danny murmured, his eyelids slowly dragging shut.

"But a loveable one," Steve added softly, placing his hand gently on Danny's good shoulder.

"No, definitely not loveable," Danny sighed. His fingers went lax in Steve's hand and he drifted back to sleep.

Steve remained standing at Danny's bedside, holding his friend's hand in his own, as he prayed he'd done enough to push Danny into holding on a while longer.

**\- H50 -**

Danny glared petulantly up at the nurse. He knew he was acting about as maturely as Grace in the middle of a full blown tantrum, and probably just as in need of a time out, but he was tired. Tired of being in pain. Tired of being in the ICU. Tired of being scared that he was still in the ICU. He was just so tired.

And to add insult to injury, there was something simply not right about having a conversation about his bowel movements, or lack thereof, with the pretty nurse standing next to his bed.

It didn't help that Kelly was completely unmoved by Danny's show of temper. He was fairly certain she had taken lessons from the same Navy SEAL instructor who had taught Steve his thousand yard stare.

"Danny, we need to do this," Kelly advised patiently.

"Fine," Danny snapped. "I'll do it myself."

Kelly cocked her head at him, arching one eyebrow. "I'd love to see how you think you're going to manage that," she commented dryly.

"This is undignified," he muttered in disgust, his face reddening. "It's just…wrong. It's torture. If you borrowed Steve's copy of Torture for Dummies, you'd find it right there in Chapter One."

"It's a suppository, not waterboarding," Kelly soothed, smiling down at Danny indulgently.

"It's a _rectal_ suppository," Danny countered crossly, chopping at the air with his hand. "Rec-tal," he repeated. He shook his head in defeat, letting it fall back against the pillow. "This sucks."

"Well if it works," Kelly patted his arm kindly, "You won't need an enema, and that's a good thing."

"Just kill me… _now_ ," Danny groaned, staring helplessly up at the ceiling.

"Let's get you rolled over," Kelly persisted.

Danny bit his lip as the nurse maneuvered him onto his side, closing his eyes as she pulled down the bedcovers and lifted his gown above his hips. He buried his face in the pillow as he heard her snap on latex gloves.

"Okay Danny," she said softly. "Just relax."

" _Relax_ she says," Danny muttered sourly. "Just relax while I shove a gigantic pill up your ass. No problem."

He sucked in a breath, trying to force the tension out of his body, wishing he was anywhere else but lying helplessly in a hospital bed as nurses and doctors did things to his body that he didn't want them to. Things that hurt, and things that were mortifyingly embarrassing. He knew he was lucky to be alive. He knew the doctors and nurses only wanted to help him stay alive. It didn't make him feel any less pissed off.

"All right, all done," Kelly said brightly as she lowered his gown and replaced the covers. "We'll give that some time to work. When you feel like you have to go, we'll get you on a bedpan. In the meantime, let's do your breathing exercises. It's important you do them every hour. The last thing we want after you've come so far is for you to get pneumonia."

A bedpan. Of course he'd have to use a bedpan. He couldn't even take a shit by himself. Danny stared dully at the green privacy curtain Kelly had drawn around his bed. He wished she would leave it up. He hated being in the fishbowl of his ICU cubicle, hated that anyone walking by could see him like this, with a dopey hospital gown and tubes up his nose. He wanted to go home.

"And this afternoon," Kelly perkily continued, "it's time for you to start moving around. We'll sit you on the side of the bed and let your feet dangle. Once we see how you respond to that, we'll try getting you into a chair, probably tomorrow. How does that sound?"

Danny growled in pain as the nurse rolled him onto his back and then raised the head of the bed to a semi-reclining position. He carefully covered his injured shoulder with his good hand and closed his eyes, panting for breath until the fire in his shoulder finally died down.

"Easy, Danny," Kelly soothed softly. "You're going to feel it a bit more as we dial back on the narcotics. Just breathe through it. It'll pass."

"Can you give me a second, please?" Danny groaned through clenched teeth. He barely gave Kelly time to respond before he opened his eyes, glared fiercely at her and barked, "Just one goddammed second. Alone. _Please_. Is that too friggin much to ask?"

Completely ignoring Danny's outburst, Kelly's eyes flew open in self reproach as she said, "Oh for goodness sake, I was supposed to make a phone call ten minutes ago. Please excuse me for a minute, Danny. Just hit the call button if you need anything."

The privacy curtain swished gently as Kelly left the room, but she left it pulled around his bed, for which Danny was immensely grateful. She'd also closed the cubicle door, shutting out the overhead pages and chatter from the hallway outside. The only sounds in the room were his own labored breathing and the muted beeping of his monitors. He sighed as the pain in his shoulder died down to a dull throb.

He tensed when he heard the snick of the cubicle door opening. And then Steve's voice sounded from the other side of the curtain.

"You decent, Danno?"

Danny glowered as Steve poked his head around the curtain and then slipped inside. The SEAL sauntered over to the bed and smiled.

"I told Kono I didn't want any more visitors," Danny glowered balefully. "What part of that did you not understand?"

"You're looking better," Steve replied mildly.

"Well I feel like crap," Danny snapped back.

"Yeah," Steve nodded, sitting down in the chair next to Danny's bed. "I know you do. You've got nurses taking your pulse and blood pressure every five minutes. Friends visiting, staring at you in awkward silence. It sucks - I get it."

"What the hell do you know about it?" Danny glanced sourly at his partner, his lean frame practically oozing strength and health.

"One of my first SEAL missions, I took one in the gut. Fragment ripped through my lower intestine. For weeks I got fed through a tube down my nose and I had to crap into a bag." Steve leaned forward and said softly, "I get it Danny. It's hard for guys like you and me to lose our sense of control. Even harder to do it in front of people we care about."

Steve's face was full of understanding and compassion. It was more than Danny could take. His lower lip trembled. He bit his lip hard, trying to stop the tears he could feel welling in his eyes. But it was no use. He was full on crying. In front of Steve McGarrett. Jesus. What the hell was wrong with him?

He squeezed his eyes shut, hating how pathetic he sounded as he tremulously begged, "Get out Steven. Just get out and leave me alone."

"You don't have anything to be embarrassed about, Danny," Steve said quietly.

Tears leaked from the corners of Danny's eyes, trickling down his cheeks. The last time he'd cried had been when Rachel had told him the baby wasn't his, that she was going back to Stan. Steve had been in prison. Feeling utterly lost and alone, he'd bought a bottle of tequila and nearly downed the whole thing. He'd sobbed like a baby on the floor of his empty crappy apartment until he'd finally passed out.

Steve reached over and put his hand on Danny's good shoulder. "If you really want me to go, I'll go. But you don't have to do this alone, Danny."

"I _hate_ this," Danny fumed, covering his eyes with his hand. "I hate feeling weak and helpless. I hate those disgusting protein shakes they're making me drink. I hate having to ask for help to take a piss. I hate being constantly poked and prodded and stuck with needles. I hate that my little girl has been scared out of her mind that I'm going to die. And I hate that I am just as terrified as she is. I hate everything."

"I know, Danny," Steve squeezed Danny's shoulder.

"And don't tell me it gets better," Danny swiped at the tears on his cheeks. "If you tell me that I'm going to have to hit you. This sucks. It completely friggin' sucks."

"Agreed," Steve nodded knowingly. "Not one damn thing about this is fair."

Danny paused, glaring accusingly at Steve. "Why do you have to do that?"

"Do what?" Steve looked at Danny in astonishment.

"Take the wind out of my pity party," Danny narrowed his eyes in rebuke. "I have a perfectly good head of steam going and then you have to be all reasonable and understanding. Do you know how annoying that is?"

"No," Steve smirked, crossing his arms over his chest. "But I'm sure you're going to tell me. Very loudly, I might add."

Just then, Kelly poked her head back inside the cubicle, slightly opening the privacy curtain. "How are we doing in here?"

Danny sighed, sheepishly glancing over at the nurse. It wasn't her fault he was miserable. "Hey…I'm sorry I snapped at you earlier."

"Don't worry about it Danny," Kelly laughed. "You haven't thrown any full bedpans at me yet, so in my book, you're an angel."

Danny grit his teeth and took a deep breath. Whining about everything was going to get him exactly nowhere. It was time to suck it up.

"I think I'm ready to try and sit on the edge of the bed now," Danny said, his eyes full of determination.

"Okay," Kelly said with a broad smile. "Let's do it."

Kelly lowered the bedrail on the right side of the bed. "You ready, Danny?"

"I'm ready," Danny nodded. He tried to mentally prepare for the pain he knew would hit as soon as Kelly and Steve moved him.

"Let us do most of the work, Danny," Kelly warned as she pulled the covers from Danny's legs and slipped her arm under his knees.

Steve lifted him up and Danny gasped as pain shot through his left shoulder. He clenched his teeth and suddenly he was upright, his legs dangling over the side of the bed. The world began to go gray around the edges and he felt Steve's arm tighten around his waist. He tried to obey Kelly as she ordered him to take long slow breaths, and gradually the room came back into focus.

"You good, Danny?" Steve asked, cautiously relaxing his hold on Danny.

"Yeah," Danny nodded, swaying slightly on the edge of the bed. "I'm good."

Danny smiled softly to himself. His shoulder was throbbing like it was on fire, and he felt slightly lightheaded. Good was maybe stretching it. But he felt better. And for now, that would have to enough to get him through.


	10. Chapter 10

Rachel knocked quietly on Danny's hospital room door. He'd been moved to a step down unit from the ICU that morning. Steve had told her the doctors had taken Danny off many of the medications they'd been using to help stabilize his condition. If he remained stable for the next twenty four hours, he'd be moved to a regular room, and then hopefully sent home not long after that.

When she didn't hear any response, she cautiously opened the door and poked her head inside.

Danny was sleeping. He was hooked to a cardiac monitor that blipped steadily next to his bed. He still had a blood pressure cuff wrapped around his right bicep and a pulse ox monitor on his right index finger, but they'd finally taken him off the oxygen. Only one IV bag hung to the side of his bed, running into a catheter on the underside of his right wrist. She knew they'd left the central line in place until they were sure he would no longer need it, but they'd capped all three catheters. They'd remove it before they moved him to a regular room.

Quietly Rachel stepped inside. Danny murmured something in his sleep. A look of pain briefly passed over his face as he shifted slightly, jostling his injured shoulder, but he didn't wake. He looked a thousand times better than he had even a couple days before. The color was coming back to his cheeks. Despite the havoc the antibiotics were wreaking on his appetite, the protein shakes he was forcing down every day were helping him to regain some much needed weight.

He still needed help moving around. The muscles in his arms and legs shook from the effort it took to make the short distance from the bed to a chair. And she knew his shoulder was still causing him pain, but Danny was determined to use just enough medication to dial it down to a manageable level.

She was about to turn around and leave when she realized he was looking at her, his blue eyes bleary with sleep.

"Hey Rach," Danny rasped. His eyes lingered briefly on her stomach.

"Danny," Rachel gave a small smile, self consciously rubbing her belly as she walked towards his bed. "How are you feeling?"

"I'm okay," Danny yawned. "Did you bring Grace?"

"She's with Kono, getting something to eat," Rachel smiled softly.

"Are you okay?" Danny asked. He turned his head on the pillow and stared at her perceptively.

"I'm fine, Danny," Rachel responded quietly. She glanced down. He'd always been so good at reading her. As good as she'd always been at reading him. But she wasn't ready to tell him that she wasn't fine. That her marriage was falling apart. Again. And that Danny's brush with death had scared her more than she'd thought possible.

She cleared her throat. "I'm just very glad you're doing so much better."

The door banged open and Grace pushed inside. Kono gave Danny a small wave from the doorway and then left the little family to themselves.

"Hi Daddy," Grace skipped to the right side of Danny's bed and carefully wriggled under his arm.

"Hey baby," Danny kissed her forehead. "Did you have a good day at school?"

Grace nodded. "I spelled all the words right on the spelling test."

"That's great, Monkey," Danny gently rubbed her arm.

"What did you do today?" Grace asked.

"I napped," Danny grinned. "I had naptime. All day."

"You're too old for naptime, silly," Grace giggled.

"Uh oh," Danny's eyes widened and he whispered dramatically, "Don't tell Uncle Steve. He'll try to drag me to the office and make me do his paperwork."

"You can't go to work, you're in the hospital," Grace shook her head in disbelief, her pigtails flying.

Danny laughed, catching one of Grace's pigtails and tugging it slightly.

Rachel held one hand to her mouth and smiled. With the other she cradled her expanding belly. She'd wanted this baby to be Danny's so badly. She'd hoped by saying it that it would make it true. But Danny wasn't the child's father, and Rachel could never lie to him about something as important as that.

Danny glanced over at her, a puzzled look on his face. She bit her lip and shook her head. She loved him. She knew that now. She didn't know what she felt for Stan anymore. But both men had deserved better than what she gave them and she wasn't going to boomerang back to Danny just because Stan had left her.

She needed time to figure everything out. She needed to stand on her own two feet and rely on herself for a change. She was grateful beyond words that Danny had survived, for Grace if not for her. Danny was an amazing father and Grace needed him in her life.

"You okay over there, Rachel?" Danny asked, his hand on Grace's back.

"Yes, Daniel," Rachel nodded. "I'm fine. Are you two going to be okay here for about an hour?"

"Yeah," Danny grinned as Grace bobbed her head up and down.

"I'll be back to get Grace in an hour then. Have fun you two," Rachel smiled and turned towards the door.

"Bye!" Danny and Grace waved at her as she walked into the hallway. She heard Grace burst into giggles as she closed the door behind her.

Reaching into her purse, she pulled out her cell phone, scrolling through the contact list until she found the name of her old boss back in New Jersey. If she was going to make it on her own, even seven months pregnant, the first thing she needed to do was find a job.

**\- H50 -**

Danny came to with a start, his heart racing, the heart monitor squealing a protest at the sudden surge in electrical activity. Pain, hot and raw clawed at his shoulder. He heaved a ragged breath, but couldn't get enough air into his lungs.

"Easy, Danno," Steve's reassuring voice sounded in his ear; Steve's hand gently massaged the back of his neck, grounding him in the here and now.

Gradually the hammering in his chest began to ease. His heart rate slowed and the monitor exited alarm mode and returned to a normal rhythm of steady beeps. The fire in his shoulder reduced to a slow burn.

"Relax," Steve murmured, his hand still working the back of Danny's neck. "You're okay. Just relax."

The dream had been so real. Except it wasn't really a dream. It was more of a nightmare fueled by memory. Bobby had stalked the halls of HQ. There was one gunshot. Then another. Then another. Everywhere Danny turned he stumbled across a dead body. Lori. Kono. Chin. Blood poured from their gaping wounds, their faces frozen in masks of shock and fear. Then he'd heard one more gunshot, found one last body—Steve. Dead on his office floor. That was when he'd finally jerked awake.

Danny shuddered, concentrating on drawing one long breath after another until his nerves finally calmed. Until the nightmare version of the HQ bloodbath faded from his mind's eye and he could see Steve's solid form sitting next to his bed.

"You want to talk about it?" Steve asked softly, slowly withdrawing his hand from Danny's neck.

"No," Danny said roughly, turning his head on the pillow and fumbling for the switch on the bedside lamp.

Light flooded the room and Danny winced at its brightness. He collapsed against his pillows, his eyes squeezed shut, his lips pressed together in a thin line, his free hand clutched to his aching shoulder.

Finally he squinted over at Steve. "What are you still doing here?"

Steve shrugged. "Didn't have anyplace else to be." He rubbed his hands together and then leaned forward. Steepling his fingers, he looked down at the floor. "Don't worry. The dreams go away. Eventually."

Danny eased his good hand from his shoulder, letting it fall across his abdomen. Blue eyes soft, he turned his head and looked at Steve. "Have yours?"

"Mostly," Steve nodded, looking up and catching Danny's eye. "Right after you rescued me in North Korea…" Steve paused, sighing deeply and running a hand over his face. "I used to dream a lot of things. That Wo Fat turned into my father. That I was strung up in that room and I looked down and it was you chained to the wall instead of Jenna. Wo Fat pointed his gun at you…he fired…and you died…" Steve shook his head. "All kinds of crazy shit."

"Your mind is a scary place, my friend." Danny noted with a frown. "I can't believe you killed me in your dreams."

" _I_ didn't kill you," Steve protested, glowering at his partner. "Wo Fat did."

"Close enough," Danny swept his good hand in a small arc towards Steve. "Do me a favor. Just leave me out of your crazy dreams from now on."

"You are insane," Steve growled in frustration. He scowled fiercely at his partner before closing his eyes and drawing in a deep breath. He let it out slowly and when he finally re-opened his eyes, he once again exuded a sense of calm. He crossed his arms and gazed steadfastly at Danny. "Why won't you tell me what you dreamed about?"

Danny flushed red. He dropped his hand to the mattress and stared intently at the catheter of his IV.

"You dreamed I died, didn't you?" Steve arched an eyebrow at Danny. " _You_ killed _me_ in your dreams."

"You killed me first," Danny stabbed a finger towards his partner.

"You know you were much less irritating when you were on your deathbed," Steve grumbled, slumping back in his chair in defeat.

"Wow," Danny's eyes widened in recrimination. "You take insensitive to whole new levels."

"Anyone ever tell you that you have the maturity of a five year old?" Steve groaned, propping his head in his hand.

"Rachel," Danny replied promptly. He grinned. "All the time."

Steve quietly studied his partner. "You still love her," he finally said.

"Yeah," Danny responded softly.

"What are you planning on doing about it?" Steve asked, crossing one leg over his knee.

"Do?" Danny sighed. "Nothing. Doesn't matter what I think or feel. I can't _do_ a damn thing if she doesn't know what she wants. It's time for me to face reality. Holding on to Rachel is holding me back. I need to let her go."

"Well, I have to say…that's very zen of you, Danno," Steve arched an eyebrow in surprise.

"I almost died," Danny smiled wryly. "That tends to change a guy. Deepen his perspective. Enlighten him, even. Make him more at one with the universe."

"You…at one with the universe," Steve snorted in disbelief. "And what universe might that be? 'Cause I'd like to avoid it at all costs."

"Mockery, Steven?" Danny indignantly sliced his hand towards Steve. "Do you think I am not capable of enlightenment? Or personal growth? You wound me. Deeply."

The two men stared at each other for a long moment before they both burst into laughter.

"Ow," Danny piteously moaned, grasping his injured shoulder. "Have to stop. It hurts too much to laugh."

As their laughter died down, Steve glanced over at Danny and said softly, "It's the right choice, Danny."

Danny caught his eye and nodded. He yawned, blinking drowsily.

"Well, Dalai Lama, you think you can go back to sleep now?" Steve asked, a small smile playing across his lips.

"Yeah, I think so," Danny gave Steve a tired grin.

As Steve stretched out a hand to switch off the light, Danny reached over and tapped Steve's knee lightly with his finger.

"Thanks babe," Danny said softly. "For being here."

"I got your back, Danno," Steve responded quietly. "Always."

"Like I've got yours," Danny murmured.

The room fell into darkness. Danny drifted back to sleep, the sound of Steve's steady breathing an anchor that kept the nightmares at bay.

**\- H50 -**

"All right. That's it. I quit," Chin threw Kono and Danny looks of disgust. "You two might have chosen the wrong profession. You'd fit right in to the cutthroat world of finance. You're brutal!"

"Then you would not have wanted to be at our house during family game night when I was a kid." Danny laughed. "They almost always ended in a brawl."

Dressed in sweats and a t-shirt, Danny was sitting in an armchair near the window. His left arm was bound tightly to his chest by a black sling, but he was finally free from all monitoring devices and IVs. He was scheduled to be released in the morning.

"Something tells me you always won," Kono chuckled. She sat cross legged on Danny's hospital bed.

"Well, no," Danny rubbed his chin with one finger and smiled. "My older sister was fierce. And she was a hair puller."

"Uh oh," Chin smirked. "Not the hair."

"Yeah," Danny grinned. "When it came down to a choice between losing my hair or the fight…well there was no choice really." Danny ran his free hand through his blonde locks. "The hair wins every time, babe."

Laughing, Kono grabbed for the dice and said, "Okay, Chin's out, but it's my turn. Prepare to go _down_."

A monopoly board sat on the bedside table, halfway between the chair and the bed. Half the board belonged to Danny, the other half to Kono.

Kono tossed the dice on the table. Both she and Danny leaned forward until the dice finally settled. Two sixes.

"Oh yeah," Danny crowed as Kono's face fell in dismay.

" _Crap_ ," Kono groaned, moving her piece forward twelve spaces until it finally landed on Park Place. With three hotels on it. All Danny's. A grin split his face.

"Pay up, babe," Danny held out his good hand and swished his fingers.

Kono tossed her money onto the center of the board and lay flat on Danny's bed. "I quit too…this game sucks."

"That's what the losers always say," Danny laughed.

Danny glanced up at the slight knock at the door.

"Come in," he called out as he pointed towards Kono with his free hand. "Hey, do you have your phone? I want you to take a picture of my victory here today. I want to memorialize it. Maybe put it in a nice frame at the office. I'll call it: Danny crushes the cousins." He grinned impudently at his teammates.

"Suddenly I can understand why all your game nights ended in brawls," Chin said dryly.

"Hey guys," Lori smiled hesitantly as she walked into Danny's room.

"Hey Lori," Danny smiled at her. "I just killed Chin and Kono at Monopoly. You want to play?"

"Uhhh," Lori glanced pleadingly at the two cousins for help.

"You know, I'm pretty sure the Children's wing needs their game back," Kono said quickly, getting up off the bed to gather the pieces of the Monopoly game and fit them back in the box.

"And we have to head out," Chin stood up. "We'll see you later, Danny."

Kono grabbed the board game, and leaned over to give Danny a quick kiss on the cheek. "Bye Danny."

"Bye guys," Danny gave them a slight wave.

Lori sat uneasily on the side of Danny's bed. She bit her lip as an uncomfortable silence fell over the room.

"You feel like taking a walk?" Danny glanced up at her. "I hear there's a nice courtyard—flowers, shrubs, very pretty they say."

"You're up for that?" Lori glanced at her teammate with concern.

"I'm good," Danny nodded. "Just might need to lean on you every once in a while. Still don't have a lot of energy back yet."

"Okay," Lori stood up, holding out a hand to help Danny out of the arm chair.

Slowly they made their way out of the room. They walked the hospital corridors in silence, Danny's good hand pressed lightly on Lori's arm. By the time they shuffled out into the bright sunlight of the courtyard, Danny was sweating slightly from the exertion.

"You okay?" Lori tightened her grip on Danny's arm.

"Yeah," Danny huffed, motioning towards a bench with his head. "Let's sit."

With a slight groan, Danny sat heavily on the wooden bench. As Lori settled next to him he glanced sideways at her.

"You haven't been by much since I got out of the ICU," he noted.

Lori nodded, squinting against the sun. "I'm sorry about that," she said, gazing across the small atrium. "They were right. It is pretty out here."

"I guess," Danny gave a careful shrug. "If you like flowers and that sort of thing." He paused. "I heard you not only spilled an entire cup of coffee, but you also drew your gun when you heard a car backfire outside the office the other day." He cast a sideways glance at her. "Nearly gave Larry the cleaning guy a heart attack."

"Steve told you," Lori reddened with embarrassment.

"Yeah," Danny nodded. "You want to talk about it?"

"Not really," Lori shifted uncomfortably.

"If it makes you feel any better, I'm not exactly over it either," Danny said quietly. "I overreact to loud noises, feel edgy and anxious. Docs finally put me on some anti-anxiety meds. They seem to be working. It's okay to ask for help, Lori." He nudged her gently. "I bet even perfect sister asks for help once in a while."

"You remember that?" Lori asked softly, looking down at her hands.

"I do," Danny replied.

"No one in my family was big on asking for help," Lori said hesitantly, twisting her fingers in her lap. "Not even perfect sister. Which is maybe why she killed herself five years ago."

"Jesus, Lori," Danny sighed, gently placing his good hand over Lori's. "I'm sorry."

"Thank you," Lori nodded slightly, her eyes glistening with tears. "I guess what I keep getting stuck on…what I can't get out of my mind…" she sighed, her body tensing as she looked rigidly at the ground, "Is if you had gone to that deli with Steve, or Chin or Kono, they would have managed to stop the situation before it escalated. They would have reacted sooner, quicker…but I was so stunned that I…"

Trembling, Lori covered her face with her hands. "I froze Danny. And I'm sorry. You nearly died because of me."

"Seriously..I'm not sure what _you're_ remembering," Danny said, gazing across the quiet courtyard, "because what I remember is a messed up kid with a heavy trigger finger shooting me without warning. What I remember is you catching me. I remember you doing everything you could to stop the bleeding. And…I remember you talking to that kid, and making the connection with him that eventually got him to let me out of there."

Danny took a deep breath and glanced at Lori. "I honestly can't say what would have happened if I'd been with Steve or anyone else instead of you. Maybe Steve would have been able to disarm him. Maybe not. Maybe Bobby would've shot Steve too, or Alana, or anyone else who had the misfortune of walking into that deli that day."

Lori wiped her eyes with the back of her hand and looked back at Danny.

"Or… maybe things would have played out exactly the same. Only Steve isn't exactly known for his communication skills," Danny said wryly. " _Maybe_ he would've sat in that deli and had to watch while I bled out. I don't know, Lori. Things are what they are. We can't go back and change them. And we make the best decisions we can in the split second we have to make them." He leaned over and whispered in her ear. "So stop beating yourself up, capiche?"

Lori let out a shaky breath and nodded. She looked up at Danny and gave him a small smile, "Thank you, Danny. You can be really sweet sometimes, you know that?"

"Oh God, no!" Danny shook his head in horror. "Don't you ever say anything like that about me again. Sweet? Little girls are sweet. Candy is sweet. Even flowers are sweet. _I_ am not sweet! _I_ am a Jersey boy. _Not_ sweet. Get it? Yech!"

Lori leaned over and lightly kissed Danny on the cheek, whispering, "Your secret is safe with me."

"Thank God," Danny shuddered, slouching against the back of the bench and closing his eyes. A slight breeze kept the sun from getting uncomfortably warm. It felt good to be outside, to smell fresh air and the fragrance of flowers instead of the overwhelming smell of antiseptics that dominated his hospital room.

"You look tired, Danny," Lori said in concern. "Are you ready to go back in?"

"Uh uh," Danny slightly shook his head. "This is perfect. Let's just stay for a while longer."

"Okay," Lori replied, settling herself comfortably on the bench. "You let me know when you're ready."

Danny nodded, and the two teammates and friends sat together in comfortable silence, enjoying the moment for as long as it might last.

**The End**


End file.
